Bookends
by selmak
Summary: Written for the Live Journal hp cross fest. The prompt was - There is a new Weasley on the way! Arthur's the father and Hermione's the mum. How do the Weasleys react?
1. Chapter 1

**Written for the Live Journal hp_cross_fest.**  
**Summary:** There's a new Weasley on the way! Arthur's the dad and Hermione's the mum! How do the Weasleys react?  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.  
**Warnings/Kinks:** Prat!Ron  
**Word Count:** ~46,500 words. So wish I was kidding.  
**Author's Notes:**

Thanks to my Betas, the letters J, K & L.

**NOTE**: There are a great many typos in this as the upload seems to have misplaced some of the punctuation. They're in my original Word document - but not here. I've uploaded the file a few times, and even tried to fix the various errors by hand. Yet, sadly, they are still there. Sorry.

_Time it was and what a time it was it was,  
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.  
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph  
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you._

_ Bookends_ by Simon and Garfunkel

She added a bit of red to her cheeks to give her complexion some sparkle. Not too much, just a little bit, as she didn't wish to look ruddy. Her hair was now a lovely strawberry blonde and her eyes were green. Her dcolletage that seemed as though it was only one mere breath from escaping from its confines was au naturel. She had heard enough horror stories to know it wasn't pretty when one's Charms deflated.

For a moment, she was nervous as she had never done anything like this.

Arrogantly, Hermione had never believed it possible that she would ever reach this nadir of desperation. No, no, no, the gossip columns would be salivating at the chance to broadcast the news that a Glamoured Hermione Granger, formerly Weasley, formerly Ron Weasley's Fag Hag, was heading to a Muggle bar where she'd pick up any man that breathed and had a working penis.

Perhaps, not necessarily in THAT order.

It had been a year or so since she had dealt with the bitter truth that Ron and Harry were just a little too close to be purely best friends. Her self-worth had shattered when she realized the relationship she had valued almost as much as her life itself was nothing more than a screen. A diversion so the ugly truth remained a secret; the Hero of the Realm and his trusty sidekick were wearing through the mattresses at an unholy rate. A year since she had filed for divorce, a year of shame where everyone knew the sad truth; Hermione Granger's husband was Harry Potter's Boy Toy. Her friends had shunned her, perhaps out of a misguided sense of kindness of not wishing to rip open her emotional wounds anew. The lowest blow? Even Arthur and Molly Weasley, who had vowed after the startling revelation to always consider her family, had cast her aside.

A year of self-imposed celibacy. A year of critical self-evaluation where she wondered what was so very wrong with her. Her first boyfriend? She had attracted Viktor, a self-absorbed narcissistic Quidditch bum. Her second, a boy so far in denial about his sexuality that even after she had caught him in a state of dshabill with Harry, Ron had refused to even consider the fact that he was as bendy as a willow wand.

No, no, no, the real reason why Ron consented to sex only once every two months or so was because Hermione was sexually repressed, a frigid bitch of a witch. Her breasts were small, her oral techniques lacking

Tonight, she'd show HIM, show THEM. She'd find some man, take him home for a night of sexual pleasure that even Madame de Pompadour would have been unable to surpass.

Yes, that's why her knees were shaking.

Really, Hermione had read all the Muggle sexual self-help books and the various female magazines from cover to cover she possessed a wealth of sexual knowledge but absolutely no experience. Her sessions with Ron had been pitiful.

Lackluster.

Inept.

She had helped defeat Lord Voldemort, why was she so terrified of having sex with a stranger?

Because she had always been the awkward bushy-haired, bucktoothed and socially inexperienced sidekick whose only redeeming characteristic had been her encyclopedic knowledge? Her only friends had been books until she had met Harry and Ron. Least her books hadn't cavalierly destroyed her just so they could have a jolly good lay.

She opened the door to the pub and took a deep breath. She'd find herself a man and have the absolute best sex of her life.

Or cripple him trying.

* * *

Hermione held her head high and attempted to project the easy, sexually arrogant strut of Sirius Black. Sirius had been the sexiest man she had ever known. But thinking of Sirius got her mind wandering to Remus who had used Dora Lupin as his Beard. At least Remus had given Dora, Teddy.

Hermione had hoped for children, but Ron had been insistent that there was time for that nonsense LATER. Oh God, the wasted years, her pitiful hopes that Ron would want children sooner rather than later. All those times, those well meaning people had commented on how she shouldn't be so focused on her career as her child bearing years were passing her by. Everyone had thought it was HER fault why they didn't have children.

Oh yes, he wanted children, but not with her. He was quite happy with Teddy. Teddy who was old enough to be a companion, not a baby that required nappy changes.

Tonight, tonight, Hermione would find herself a man, have fantastically intense sex and hopefully in nine months or so, she'd have her baby. Her fertility had been primed by both Magical and Muggle means and according to the little stick, she was quite fertile.

She ordered a pint of bitter, and a man sitting in the pub paid for it. He wasn't much, an older, nondescript man that she wouldn't have looked at twice except for the fact that he had paid for her drink. Her benefactor looked so desperately unhappy that she felt a twinge of compassion.

"Mind if I sit here?" Hermione asked. Well, she didn't so much as ask, as she commanded. Sirius Bloody Black had never asked permission. He had just did whatever the bloody hell he wanted, leaving lesser mortals trembling in his wake and Albus Dumbledore struggling to pick up after him. She sat next to her victim and accidentally brushed his leg with her hand. She kept her hand there and he seemed startled by her boldness.

He didn't tell her to move her hand, though.

The signs were there that he was a long time, married man. There was the slightest indentation on the ring finger as though he had recently taken off his wedding band. He didn't look particularly comfortable sitting there in the pub, as though it was something he rarely did.

She continued through the Twelve Steps that Witches Monthly Guaranteed that She'd have a Fully Functional Man in her Bed All Night Long That Very Night. There was the accidental flash of her cleavage, her hand lingering just the slightest bit too long on his inner thigh, a pint of bitter so she was deemed approachable her lips were slightly pouting, so they looked kissable rather than bruised.

"You seem so sad," he softly commented. "It shreds my heart that such a young woman has such heartbroken eyes. Who hurt you?"

"My friends," she spat.

Bitterness was a sure way to scare her victim, Hermione remembered. It was the Number One Turnoff for Men.

He brushed her cheek with his fingers. It was quick gesture of such honest compassion that her eyes filled with tears. "You need better friends, love," was all the man said. Such unforeseen sympathy and tenderness from a member of the male species weakened the granite fortress around Hermione's heart.

She broke the cardinal rules of the Witches' Weekly Wizard Hunt then and there.

"Will you spend the night with me?" she pleaded.

How mortifying, she was **_begging_** for sex. Hermione had resolved to be the most sexually successful conqueror since Aspasia and Thais had gotten too old for the business. She was supposed to play hard to get, impossible to obtain, **_not_** desperate.

"What a tempting offer. I'm so flattered, but I fear it wouldn't be right," was his soft response. He took a sip of his pint as though he was still mentally debating the issue. He shook his head and wore a regretful smile. "No, it wouldn't be right. I don't even know your name. You don't know mine."

"Doesn't matter," she insisted. "Come home with me. I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Neither do I. Loneliness is the ultimate poverty," he agreed. "What would a beautiful woman like you dare hope to find in a broken-down man like me? Be honest with me, and then I'll decide on your most munificent offer."

"For once, I want to be the center of someone's universe," Hermione admitted. It was frightening how easily she was confessing her innermost desires. It was almost as though the two of each other had known each other for years, decades. Instinctively, Hermione trusted this somber stranger with his despairing eyes. "Just for tonight, I want to feel pretty."

"Dear woman, you are unbelievably beautiful, but your sadness your pain it's overwhelming you. How did your friends convince you that you aren't desirable? Is there any man here who wouldn't be delighted to take you home?"

"You'd be surprised," was her bitter retort. "And I don't seem to recall that you accepted my offer."

Again, he touched her cheek and then slid his fingers down her neck. "They're fools. Why pick me? You haven't answered that question. What did this forlorn old man do to attract your interest?"

"Because you seem to be the loneliest person here," Hermione admitted.

"Ah, you have a bit of self-esteem issue, love? You picked me because you thought I'd be less likely to say 'No', then?" he quipped. He flashed a smile at her that was eerily familiar. "Your honesty is appreciated, though bruising. It's time that we introduced ourselves. Call me Michael."

"Michael," Hermione softly repeated. "I'm Anne."

"Lovely name," he assured her. They both knew that the other was lying, but it was enough for now. They were bonding over their mutual heartache. "Anne, I have to be honest. Haven't done this before. My wife she's dead I just feared that I'd go astray in my head from loneliness at my home, that's why I came here. I couldn't take the silence anymore. I don't usually go to pubs and pick up women."

"I haven't done this before either," she agreed.

She knew his blue eyes but not his face. Why did she trust his eyes? The timbre of his voice was also familiar to her. Why did Hermione instinctively trust that he'd be a wonderful man to father her baby?

He held out his hand, and gave her a smile.

Yes, he had decided to go home with her, Hermione knew.

"I won't make you any promises, Anne. It seems you have had enough promises that have been broken, but I'll let you have you secrets. Just let me have mine, that's all I ask," Michael requested.

"Done."

* * *

They moved to a more private area, and Michael placed his left hand on her knee.

"Let me know if I'm too forward," he requested. Again, the smile that was achingly familiar tugged at her heartstrings. But Hermione knew that she was just desperately pretending that she knew him, so it wasn't like she was actually going home with a perfect stranger. "It's been a while since I've been able to do this. Oh, how I've missed this."

He slid his left hand underneath her skirt, slid it between the junction of her legs. He kept it there and Michael kept talking to her. Sometimes, he'd stroke her knickers while he deliberately kept his hand on the outside of them. Meanwhile, he continued to act as though nothing was amiss. As though his hand wasn't there and they weren't in public!

"You're lovely when you blush," he told her. "Now tell me, what do you like to do in bed? Would you like my mouth there instead? I'd like to kiss you there. It's the sweetest kiss, you know, so I'd savor it and take my time." She knew she was crimson then, and Michael gave her a penetrating look.

"Talk to me," he requested. "Tell me what you can. You're a tantalizing mixture of shyness and forwardness. I fear to err with you."

"I'm a divorcee. My ex played for the other team," she admitted. "He wasn't that interested in my enjoyment. Wanted it over with. I'm not that experienced"

Again, she shattered another of Witches' Weekly's Rules! Never admit your inexperience. A one night stand man wanted a woman with sexual know-how.

He crooked one eyebrow when she mentioned her shame, and then he somberly nodded his head.

"Happened to more than one person that I cared for." Michael admitted that softly. He smiled once and then kissed her on her cheek. It was a gentle, chaste kiss and Hermione marveled at the sensation. How long had it been since she had been kissed? "Don't worry, love. I've got sufficient experience to make it good for you."

Again the familiar, self-mocking smile.

"I'm not good with words, but I'm far better with my hands," he admitted. "What I wanted to say is if we decide to take this further, it won't be like your other times."

"I know it won't," she strongly stated, which earned her another amused look. "You're paying me more attention that he ever did. I'm surprised that we're still here. He'd be rolled over on his side, snoring by now."

"Talking is part of it," he reminded her. "That is what separates us from animals. But not just talking, but the touching is so very important."

He lazily ran his middle finger up and then down before he was in THE Spot. The Spot that caused Hermione to close her eyes as he slowly and deliberately circled it.

"Like that do you?" Michael was a bit cheeky, but he had every right to be. She was primed and ready, and was this close to going off like a Weasley Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs in the middle of a pub.

"Hmmm" was her incoherent murmur.

The bastard stopped and then spread her legs apart. His hand then moved to her knee.

"There will be more of that later on," he promised. "But I think you'd like my tongue more."

How pathetic was her life? She was getting the best foreplay of her life in the corner of a pub with a complete stranger.

To hide her confusion, she ordered another pint and he placed his right hand on top of hers. Hermione liked his hands, as they were heavily calloused, as though he was used to working with his hands. They weren't the typical soft wizard hands; they were hands that worked for a living. How exciting would it be to feel those hands on her body?

"Don't be nervous," he assured her. "We don't have to do this. All you really need is someone to assure you that you're truly beautiful. Perhaps if I repeat it enough, you'll believe me. I don't need to be in the horizontal position to tell you that you're the prettiest woman here."

Again the sense of familiarity, as though Hermione knew him. But why did she think that whoever Michael really was, he was being unusually solemn and formal? He possessed a grave sort of tenderness as though he had been alone with just his thoughts for far too long. As though he was so soul wounded that he couldn't bear to see another person hurting.

"Yes, Anne, you're beautiful. On the outside and the inside. The eyes never lie," he informed her.

"I've been just so lonely," Hermione explained. "I feel as though the world is passing me by."

"And I've been grieving. Let us give each other what comfort we can, Anne. No commitments, no promises, just two forlorn people coming together. I assure you that you'll have complete control over tonight. If your nerves get the better of you, then I'll stop. I won't be angry," Michael said. "It takes a great deal for me to get annoyed. I'll thank you for our conversation and then leave."

"What if I'm not any good? He said that I wasn't" Again, Hermione found herself confessing.

Again, a gentle caress of her cheek that trailed down her neck.

"If he's in denial, he'll put the blame on anyone else but himself. It takes a rare man to look himself in the mirror and acknowledge the type of man he truly is," was his response. "Young men don't have enough life experience to realize that they shouldn't take themselves so bloody seriously. I'm sure that you're wonderful, Anne. You're kind, you're compassionate and you're very patient with a grieving, old man who is wildly out of practice with flirting. You've given my broken heart solace. Plus, I **_quite_** fancy the color of your knickers."

"Really?" Hermione asked. She had picked the color based on WW's expert suggestions.

"You've got a wild streak in you."

He touched her face again, pushing her cheek up so she was smiling. It was a wonderful feeling and Hermione closed her eyes in order to focus on the sensation. It ran up and down her backbone, but the feeling was concentrated in the spot where his left hand formerly had been.

"Take me home," whispered Hermione.

"Yes," Michael whispered. "I'll take you home and spend all night convincing you how magnificent you are."

* * *

Arthur Weasley couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he knew Anne, and knew her quite well. She was a Muggle though. He didn't know that many Muggles, and certainly didn't know her face.

Anne wanted to have sex with him no she just wanted sex with anyone with a penis. He shouldn't be agreeing to this madness, to take a much younger woman to bed. It was a one way to ticket to embarrassment, especially for a man of his age. Yet, she was hurting so badly that he couldn't help but feel her pain.

He felt no guilt in cheating on Molly.

He had spoken the truth to Anne. His wife was dead, long departed, her warm personality silenced due to the cruel neurological disease that had robbed her of memories. All that remained of the woman he had loved, loved and would always love was her physical shell. His latest visit had been earlier today and she had been glowing. Molly was smitten with a fellow patient who was also afflicted with dementia. Molly's happiness had always been paramount for Arthur, so he had played along with her, allowing her the giddy bliss of being in love for what was her, the very first time.

Didn't make it hurt any less. And so when he had returned to the bleakness of his flat, he had taken off his wedding ring. He had never removed it, not even once, during his many years with Molly. Their marriage was over; Molly had found love with Roger. How Arthur both loved and hated the man who made his Mollywobbles happy.

He had come to the pub looking for noise, to escape the solitary stillness of his life. He had long since sold the Burrow to pay for Molly's care, but there were still a million and one reminders of Molly in his flat. And in his despair, he had found Anne.

He was making no promises with Anne, no declarations of heartfelt devotion.

Yet why was he ruddy doing this? Why was he agreeing to his insanity?

Because she could so easily end up bedding a blackguard, someone who wouldn't stop if she changed her mind. Best if it was a tired old man who'd treasure the honor, who wanted to be close with someone tonight while he mourned the death of his marriage. For all her boldness, there was a pool of stunning emotional fragility in the lass she reminded him of Molly how she had carried on in public after the deaths of Fabian, Gideon and Fred. How she had wept in private for poor shattered Hermione.

Ginny had fought back with all the righteous anger she had possessed. Got a proper settlement from Harry and was living the Very Good Life with her children. But Hermione, she had just wanted it over, and quickly settled. Molly and he had assured Hermione that she would always be part of the family and that they still loved her. Molly had gotten increasingly absent minded and he needed to focus on THAT, until the horrible diagnosis of her dementia had been confirmed by far too many Healers. Then when he had time to breathe once again, he had attempted to find Hermione, to tell her about Molly but the young witch had moved. No forwarding address so it seemed to him that she had wanted a complete split with her painful past. He had seen her a few times at the Ministry, but she had fled from him.

Not that he wanted to do it, but he honored her unspoken request to be left alone.

His seduction of Anne was a leisurely affair, a great deal of talking with some touching, wanting to teach her to savor the experience. She had the impatience of youth, and he kept slowing down the pace much to her annoyance. In time, they made it back to her flat. It was a small, tidy flat and Arthur had a horrible case of the jitters. A lovely, young thing like Anne, bedding him - How utterly barmy! His face was Glamoured but his body was most assuredly the middle-aged, soft body of Arthur Weasley.

A nervous Anne needlessly warned him about her cat, a particularly crabby tabby that might make an appearance or he might not. It all depended on his capricious cat nature.

"Have any music?" he questioned as he didn't wish to talk about her pussy cat all night. "We can dance."

"Dance?" Anne protested.

"Yes, dancing is wonderful foreplay," Arthur assured her. "I know your ex didn't believe in it, but foreplay is delicious. Making love is like having a meal, Anne. Foreplay is the appetizer, your orgasm is the main course and cuddling is afters."

"I can't dance very well," Anne protested. "Can't we?"

She tilted her head towards her bedroom. Her desire to get his penis into her bed was really quite flattering, Arthur thought.

"No dancing, no making love," he chastised. He held out his hand, and motioned for to take it. "Come now. We're doing this properly, love. So that means excessive amounts of foreplay."

She glided into his arms, and he carefully wrapped his arms around her.

"I like slow dancing." He had to lean down to whisper that in her ear. Merlin's beard, she was such a little thing and Arthur was overwhelmed with a feeling of protectiveness for Anne. "It's an excellent way of learning how to move as one."

* * *

Hermione placed her head on Michael's chest and she inhaled his cologne while they slow danced. It was a light, musky scent that she couldn't quite recognize, but then again, Ron's taste had been rather limited to Odor de Wet Quidditch Uniform. It was a nice fragrance, she thought. Maybe her father had worn it, as it smelled familiar. Yes, it was the type of aftershave one was likely to find any middle age man's medicine cabinet. A man who was focused on providing for his family rather than spending his hard earned money on expensive fragrances.

A provider not a player.

He'd make a simply splendid baby. She'd thank Michael every single minute that her belly swelled with his child.

Her baby. It wouldn't matter if her baby was Magical, Muggle or a squib. It would be hers, all hers Her baby would know what an amazing man Michael had been, how he given her what she had craved so desperately. Perhaps, if it was a boy, she'd name him Michael.

Yes, Michael Granger.

Yes, after the simply wonderful man who had given her this precious gift? If this worked, all the damn shots, all the damn potions just so she could experience the miracle of motherhood would be worth it. All those bitter tears she had shed during her marriage to Ron, her fake smiles of happiness when the latest Weasley grandbaby arrived would be forgotten in the joys of having her own child.

Michael's hands were on her back, sliding beneath her shirt while they slow danced. With a proficiency Ron had never quite mastered, Michael unfastened her brassiere. They then kissed for a bit, Michael not seemingly displeased with her tongue-tied tongue. No, he was enthusiastically kissing her and he had his hands cupping her breasts. The evil, evil man was teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

How many hands did Michael possess? He must be part octopus, Hermione delightedly believed as his hands were everywhere as was his mouth. Then when his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, she stopped being so ruddy analytical. No, instead she focused on how much she wanted this, how deliberately he was teasing her

Before long, her last coherent thought for a very long time was this was far better than Witches' Weekly had promised.

* * *

In the afterglow, Arthur deliberately took the side of the bed that was a wee bit damp due to their pleasant activities. His father, Septimus, had instructed him in the mysteries of sex and the foremost rule was to be a gentleman at all times ESPECIALLY afterwards. Only cads treated their lovers differently after sex. Anne seemed uncertain what to do next and he motioned for her to come closer.

"Rest your head on my chest," he suggested. They wrestled her into position for a bit and when everything was perfect, he pulled the blanket over her so she was covered. "My beautiful lady, you were wonderful."

He kissed the top of her head while he rubbed her back.

"Again? So soon?" She delightedly asked.

"No, I wish but I need time to recover as I'm knackered," he teased. "This lovely woman had no mercy on an old man."

"You're not old," she protested.

_ I've got children younger than you_, Arthur thought.

He continued stroking her back while he pondered the night's events. With this, he had acknowledged that his marriage was over. He'd never divorce Molly, never stop thinking of her as the young girl he had married so many years ago, but his overwhelming grief was lessening.

_ We had such a wonderful life together, Mollywobbles. Too many kids and not enough galleons, but oh, what a time. Helped saved the wizard world and the Muggles, too._

_I'll always love you, Molly._

_I'm glad that I used a Glamour tonight. If any of our kids found out about this, they wouldn't understand about how lonely I am without you, how I needed to be physically close to someone in order to be able to let you go. I'm not a one night stand man, Molly. But Michael Michael is. He can love this sweet child and walk away with a jaunty bounce in his step._

_Oh, Anne, you'll never know how much tonight meant to me. I'll keep tonight close to my heart always._

He kissed Anne thoroughly then, wanting to properly express his thanks for her kindness. Poor Anne was affection starved as she positively purred whenever he kissed or caressed her.

There was bit of a ruckus and a very big, bandy-legged, ginger-colored cat with a squashed head jumped on the bed. His face looked as if he had run headlong into a brick wall. A horrified and appalled Arthur recognized the Kneazle.

"Naughty Shanks," Hermione lovingly chastised her Kneazle. "I hope you didn't startle Michael."

Crookshanks purred at his mistress and then looked at Arthur. His eyes were penetrating as though he was warning Arthur that he knew exactly what type of man he was.

_I just **made love **to my daughter-in-law._

_Oh yes, I most assuredly had made love to Hermione. I had completely focused on her physical needs and oh Merlin's bloody scrote, I had **made love** to **Hermione**._

"Is there something a matter?" Hermione asked. Her voice was soft and he could sense her nervousness. "You seem upset. Is it Shanks?"

_ Was it me? Wasn't I good enough? Was Ron right about me? Am I a lousy lay?_ Those were her unasked questions.

"No, there's nothing wrong," he tenderly assured her. "You were simply exquisite. Stars and stones, I'm lucky that you didn't kill me. He just startled me when he jumped on the bed."

She twisted one lock of hair around her finger, a gesture so reminiscence of Hermione that he cursed himself. How the bloody hell could he NOT know her?

"You'll stay the night, won't you?" She gave him a very uncertain smile. "I'll make breakfast. Eggs, toast and sausage?"

"Yes," Arthur softly agreed. "Sounds delicious."

"Will you hold me?" was her next request. "I find that I quite like your arms around me. He wasn't much into snuggling. I want to remember how good I felt in your arms."

"Yes, I'll hold you all night long," promised a badly shaken Arthur. "If I could, I would hold you long enough to make up for all those lonely nights you endured."

She traced her fingers down his wet cheek.

"You're crying, Michael. Are you thinking about your wife?" Hermione asked. Her loving concern nearly did him in.

He nodded once. He was thinking of Molly and of a bushy haired girl he had once known. He was pondering many things, including how bloody damned he was.

**_ I buggered my marriage vows. My sacred marriage vows! I buggered them repeatedly with my daughter in law! I should have recognized her! The clues were there, damn it!_**

"It's obvious to me that you loved her very much and that you still love her." Hermione assured him. "She must have been so happy to be married to you because she knew how much you loved her. You're such an amazing man, Michael."

She planted little butterfly kisses on his face, whispering over and over again her thanks.

* * *

A drowsy Hermione was blissfully smiling while a deeply disturbed Arthur was most assuredly not. He decided to stroke her hair, and he kissed the top of her head several times. Arthur could give her this a feeling of blissful contentedness, the sweet, sleepy afterglow and the understanding how lovemaking was supposed to be between two people.

"You were amazing," she whispered. "I never knew it was supposed to be this incredible."

Arthur wanted to vomit, as all he could think was that poor Hermione's sexual experience consisted of two generations of Weasley penises. One gay, one married. Well, no, not really married but yes technically married. Instead, he continued to kiss her, placing soft, gentle pecks on the top of her head. Tenderly, he whispered inanities to her and continued to cuddle.

He wanted to flee from this situation. Instead, Arthur stayed, so he could give her the warmth and affection that his self-absorbed son hadn't.

"Stop," he gently protested. "You're embarrassing me. You're just being kind to an old man."

"No, you were brilliant," she insisted. "It never felt like this before. You made me feel special."

"You are, Anne. You are very, very exceptional. You are an amazing lover. So giving and just so delightful. Now go to sleep," he was almost pleading.

"I like your aftershave" she whispered. "What kind is it?"

_You should like it. You gave it to me on your last Christmas as a Weasley. Your divorce would be final in a few weeks, but you stopped by the Burrow that December afternoon. You apologized for your gifts because money was tight, but you wanted one last Christmas with us. You gave me this cologne and some Muggle plugs and batteries. Molly and I hugged you and kissed you; assured you that we would always love you_

_Oh bloody hell, what have I done?_

_I never meant **love** you like **this**!_

"British Sterling Silver," he finally admitted.

"That's why it smells so familiar," she murmured.

His heart froze and then began wildly beating, uncontrollably.

"My dad wore it."

Several sleepy kisses were bestowed on him, and then Hermione put her head on his shoulder.

"You'll still be here in morning, won't you? There will be eggs and sausage," she hopefully repeated.

_Merlin's beard, she sounds so lonely Ron? You didn't hold your wife once through the entire night?_

"Yes, we'll have breakfast," Arthur promised her while his heart continued to race. "But, my dear, you need to get some sleep, else there will be no eggs and sausage in the morning. There will just be a lot of hot tea and yawning."

* * *

She knew she was pregnant. Earlier that day, she had cast the spells to help ensure her fertility and she KNEW that she was pregnant. Yes, Hermione would have to wait for the earliest possible confirmation, but for now, she'd act as though she was. She'd eat right, have her vitamins and take proper care of the much wanted child growing within her.

Be a proper mother, like hers had been, like Molly was.

Maybe, after the baby was born, she'd approach Arthur and Molly and sound them out about being adopted grandparents. She didn't have anyone else as her parents were both gone. Perhaps the Weasleys would be willing to share their love with another little one. The conservative Molly might not approve of the child's irregular conception, but Arthur, he'd be willing to overlook it. Her child would need a positive male role model in its life and the big-hearted, affable Arthur would be perfect.

Hermione smiled as she imagined bribing him with plugs and cords and batteries.

How she missed them.

Their open arms, their love but it just hurt too much. Several times, she had vowed that would be the day, she'd go to the Burrow to visit. Yet, the idea of possibly meeting Harry and Ron and Teddy, the perfect little family, had stopped her in mid-Disapparation.

She needed more antenatal vitamins and folic acid from the chemist shop. While she was out and about, British Sterling Silver needed to be added to her list along with a man's jumper. She'd sprits it with the fragrance and wear it as a maternity shirt. She'd smell the cologne and think fondly of Michael, what with his sad smile and his skilled hands.

What a simply marvelous lover.

He had been making love to his wife, Hermione knew. Not her. She had only been a physical surrogate for him, but still, he had been so deliciously thorough. Ron could have learned many a thing from Michael. He had actually kissed her THERE kissed her so thoroughly that she had come.

And he hadn't stopped. No, Michael had ensured that she had her enjoyment repeatedly before he had his own.

Oh God, tonight had been far better than Witches' Weekly had ever promised. FINALLY, Hermione understood why everyone was so bloody focused on IT.

IT was great.

IT was better than chocolate Angel Delight.

IT was bloody, ruddy brilliant.

IT... Michael... would give her a baby to love.

Hmm she should think of a girl's name just in case.

"Michael? What was your wife's name?" She asked.

Her lover stiffened in her arms and he swallowed once.

"I just want to light a candle for her," Hermione quickly lied. "When I go to church."

Carefully, he rolled her on her side so he could look into her eyes. His smile was sickly.

"I wasn't thinking of her when we made love just now," he whispered. His eyes were shattered and Hermione felt her eyes water at his pain. "You must believe me. This wasn't just sex to me, I made love to you."

"Don't," she pleaded. She put her hands over his mouth. "It's alright. I'm quite used to it, you know. I just wondered what her name was. For the candle. I wish to light one for her."

"I made love to **_you_**," Michael stressed. "I know your husband hurt you by being fickle in his affection. Hermione, I'm **_not_** Ron. I made love to _**you**_, not my wife."

"What did you call me?" Hermione gasped.

"I made love to you, Hermione. I kissed the mole on your right breast. I worshipped you between your legs because I wanted you to know how it felt like to be crazy with desirehow it felt to be physically loved. I won't deny to anyone that I made love to you but I won't refute the inescapable fact had I only known who you were, I never would have touched you," said Michael. "I can't lie to you. Hermione, this never should have happened between us."

She was mentally punched in the gut, and she put her hand over her churning belly.

Again.

Betrayed in bed Michael would have sexed anyone **_except_** for Hermione Granger.

It had happened again.

"Who are you?" Hermione softly asked. "How do you know me?"

She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not break down.

He touched the faint scar on his neck. She had seen the scar and not commented on it, accepted that he wanted his secrets.

"You didn't ask about this," he whispered. "After it happened, I hated her to see it. She wept, and her tears hurt more than the bite ever did. She lost so much in the wars that sometimes her fears would overwhelm her. The others they thought her weak and overly protective, but I thought her the bravest woman because she continued to fight."

_**Oh no, no no... no!**_

"Arthur?" Hermione whispered. "Molly's _**not**_ dead!"

She got out of her bed, the bed that she'd never use again, and she physically collapsed. Arthur attempted to grab her to prevent her from falling and she fought him off. Withstanding her blows, he helped her to her feet anyway, and Hermione struggled to cover her nakedness with her hands.

He wrapped her in the comforter, trying to cover her.

Oh God, he had kissed her **_there_**... he had held her hand while he had gone down on her to reassure her because she had been so bloody apprehensive because Ron had never wanted to do **_anything_** like that not to **_her._** She had furiously blushed when _**Arthur**_ declared her taste to be scrumptious and yummy and... It had had been... **_Arthur_** who had suckled on her breasts had rubbed her until she was writhing in need. Arthur who had her crying out in passion...she had clawed _**Arthur Weasley's**_ back! She had kissed, licked and fondled **_Arthur's_** bloody wand while he... he...had moaned soft noises of pleasure.

She had sex with her father-in-law!

What was that noise? Was that inhuman screech coming from her throat?

"Let's get dressed," Arthur suggested. "We can talk and make things right between us. Just please, calm down, Hermione. We can talk and everything will be like it was. Like it was, it can be once more, just please, stop screaming, Hermione."

Yes, talking would make everything wonderful. She and Ron had done an awful lot of that rubbish, which had consisted of a condescending Ron explaining why the situation was completely her fault.

"I just _**fucked **_my ex-father-in-law," sniped a hoarse Hermione. "Yes, putting on clothes will make everything better. I know of only one thing that will make me feel better."

A bleak Arthur Weasley nodded his head once. "Do it," he stated.

Really, no one could blame her for taking him up on his most munificent offer, now could they? Hermione slapped him across his face. _**Hard**_. The comforter that had been haphazardly wrapped around her fell to the floor.

He picked it off the floor and offered it back to her. Hermione ignored his gesture as well, Arthur had already seen all there was to see of her.

"Not quite what I anticipated. I was expecting something a little lower," he dryly winced as he touched his red cheek. "Perhaps a bit more permanent also. Let me turn the other cheek, Hermione."

He turned his face and offered it.

"Michael made me feel special," she whispered. "Michael made me believe that a man could find me attractive, that a man would want to have sex with me. You're a liar, just like your son. No wonder you had more children than even the Malfoys could ever hope to afford."

She slapped him again, putting a little more back into it and Arthur Weasley rocked from the impact.

"You are special," Arthur softly insisted. "You are beautiful, Hermione. It wasn't just sex for me, Hermione."

His glamour faded and he looked like nothing more than naked, heartbroken old man. Hermione looked up and down at him and then rolled her eyes. Oh, it was time to _**hurt**_ Arthur Weasley.

"You cold, Arthur? I'm detecting _**shrinkage**_?" She cruelly quipped.

"I didn't know it was you, I swear. If Crookshanks hadn't jumped on the bed" whispered Arthur.

"Somehow, I always thought better of you," Hermione stated in a too calm voice. Really, shrieking like a mad woman? No, she needed to be rational and calm. "I thought you were a proper father, a respectable husband. I wondered why Ron couldn't be more like you and now I know. He's exactly like you. Is Molly aware of your extracurricular activities?"

And she scored, cleaver directly in his heart, as an ashen Arthur flinched.

"No," softly admitted Arthur. "She's not aware"

"You disgust me. You're just like Ron! You go to a bar, have a cheap fling while your despondent wife's at home wondering what she can do to get her husband back into her bed. I guess that it's not so bad for Molly, it's not like you're buggering Kingsley Shacklebolt to the mattress!"

Arthur put his hands on his chest and pressed down. He was breathing heavily and he was a sickly color.

"Hermione I'm so sorry" he tearfully whispered.

"_**I despise you**_," she spat. Her noble attempts at remaining collected were doomed to failure, so it was time just to dump acid onto Arthur Weasley. "Did you enjoy my performance? Did you like all the little tricks I learned in my desperate hopes that your son would grow to enjoy fucking me? I thought if I learned to go down on him properly, like Harry did, that Ron might agree to let me have a baby. Did you like how I sucked you? Did I do it right?"

"You were wonderful, Hermione. You wereso lovely so beautiful You were magnificent."

Why the bloody hell was Arthur weeping? Did he believe that his tears would soften her wrath? Bloody hell no! Ms. Hermione Granger was a woman scorned, mocked and ridiculed by the Weasley men and it was time for them to pay.

"If I'm so bloody magnificent, tell me, what's so _**fucking**_ wrong with me that I attract men like you?" She hysterically screamed at him. "Look at me, goddamn you. Don't stare at the floor. Look at me and tell me what's so wrong with me?"

Arthur looked at her and he put his hand out to her as though he wished to calm her. His right hand was still pressed dead center in the middle of his chest.

"There's nothing wrong with you You're a lovely, beautiful woman I swear to you I didn't know. I didn't even think"

"You did think, Arthur, but with the wrong head," Hermione snapped. "Damn the Weasleys and their wee willies."

He collapsed against the bed and slid onto the floor. His blue eyes were full of fright and he was rubbing his chest.

"Get up," she growled. "I'm not topping you. We're not having a repeat, Arthur. Go home to Molly, maybe she'll want sloppy seconds for afters."

"HermioneI'm having a heart attack" whispered Arthur. "There's an Oliphant on my chest."

"Too much sex for an old man," Hermione snarked. "Bad for your heart."

He closed his eyes and nodded once. His breathing was in short pants and he was still pressing on his chest.

"Get up, Arthur. I fell for your sincere act earlier, I simply do not believe that you're having a heart attack," she growled. "And if you were, I find that I lack the energy to care."

Again, he nodded his head and swallowed. "Tell Percy"

"Not listening. Get off the floor, Arthur, crawl back to whatever rock from whence you came," she snapped. Taking her time, she put on her clothes and returned to find a still naked Arthur Weasley softly whispering, his words appearing on a piece of parchment.

"Percy I never stopped loving you know that even when we disagreed, I still loved you. Take care of your mother for me please. I love you my little bureaucrat black sheep. I know I wasn't the father you wanted me to be. I know I disappointed you but I always loved you." He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. "Please make sure he gets that. I don't want to die and have him secretly fear that I didn't love him as much as I did the others. Please Hermione swear it that you'll give him my message"

His color was really off, Hermione noticed. She touched his cheek and recoiled. He was ice cold and dripping in sweat. Arthur Weasley looked ill... as unwell as her father had when he had his first heart attack.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd clothe my body," he pleaded. "Please? Don't let them find my naked body. Please. Not for me for Ginny... save her from the shame, please."

He grabbed her hand.

"I know you hate me but for Ginny hasn't she been through enough? For Ginny please, don't let them find me like this. Drop my body in an alleyway, but please Hermione put my clothes on me. Please. For Ginny's sake, not mine," pleaded Arthur.

His eyes, they were terrified. Bloody hell, he WAS having a heart attack.

"I'm taking you to St. Mungo's," she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Written for the Live Journal hp_cross_fest**

**Title:** Bookends  
**Author:**  
**Prompt Number:** 194  
**Rating:** M - cursing  
**Main Pairing:** Hermione/Arthur  
**Secondary Pairings:** BW/FW, CW/Dragons, PW/AW, GW/AW, RW/HG, GW/HP, HP/RW  
**Summary:** There's a new Weasley on the way! Arthur's the dad and Hermione's the mum! How do the Weasleys react?  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.  
**Warnings/Kinks:** Prat!Ron  
**Word Count:** ~46,500 words. So wish I was kidding.  
**Author's Notes:** Thanks to my Betas, the letters J, K & L. I ALSO GIVE UP ON FORMATTING THIS! SORRY!  
**Synopsis:** Arthur and Hermoine are having morning after issues.

_Time it was and what a time it was it was,  
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.  
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph  
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you._

_ Bookends_ by Simon and Garfunkel

She Apparated directly into the St. Mungo's Casualty Ward, where the ashen Arthur was immediately rushed into the Cardiac Ward. Hermione was disconcerted to find that she was considered a family member as she was kept in the treatment room. The Healers asked Arthur many questions and he answered them in panting monosyllables. Yes, no, may-be. His eyes were closed and he was putting all his effort into breathing.

How did his face get bruised?

_Fell._

You fell, Mr. Weasley?

_**YES.**_

Had he been doing anything unusual before his collapse?

_**NO.**_

"We had a bit of a row," Hermione inserted.

Arthur was too winded to do more than protest with a soft moan, but he shook his head.

"About my ex," she added. "Arthur, do you want me to get Bill? Bill should be here."

He shook his head again and tapped his wrist.

_Do you know what time it is? It's two in the morning! Let Bill sleep!_

"You go home," Arthur ordered.

"No, I'm staying until they find out what's a matter with you," protested Hermione. She put her hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Not leaving. I'm sorry about our argument. I was quite cruel."

"My fault," he insisted.

She put her fingers over his lips and shushed him. "Save your strength. Just breathe, Arthur."

Damn her for a being a soft-hearted git, but Arthur had seemed sincerely apologetic. The bit about Ginny had disturbed her, as he hadn't wanted her to take him to the hospital. No, he wanted her to clothe him so that Ginny wasn't further humiliated. And he had written a note to his son.

Ron hadn't cared about her, hadn't cared about Ginny. He had been completely focused on his needs, his dick, his Harry. Ron had tried to put the blame on her, because of her frigidness and a thousand other reasons while Arthur had stated that it was his fault.

Not only that, but Arthur had let her slap him twice. The way her hand was nicely purpling, it was likely she had broken his cheekbone.

He hadn't raised his voice, hadn't gotten angry with her, no, he had apologized once more.

"Mr. Weasley, your heart is racing along at over two hundred beats a minute. We'll need to do a cardioversion and do it quickly as you're not stable. Would you mind leaving the room?" That was directed to Hermione and she decided to take the chance to flee.

She needed to contact someone. It couldn't be Molly as she couldn't face Molly after this.

Percy.

She'd contact Percy. Arthur had thought of him during his heart attack and... Arthur grabbed her hand.

"Private," he gasped. "Talk. Please?"

"Later, afterwards," she replied. "When you're feeling better."

"No go - not yet!" Arthur protested. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are, Arthur. Close your eyes and rest," Hermione whispered. "I'm sorry too."

"Mr. Weasley, we need to cardiovert you and do it quickly. Miss Granger, you need to leave now," the Head Healer announced.

She pulled away from him, and he continued to struggle to reach for her. Two beefy Healers blocked her view of Arthur and they imperiously motioned for her to leave. Staggering out of the room, she attempted to collect herself. She had to Floo call Percy and needed to be unruffled and calm.

* * *

Healer Malachi, a literal bear of a Healer, stormed over to Hermione.

"It took a few tries but his heart is now beating in a nice, slow, healthy rhythm. He's quite drugged on a half dozen potions, so he won't know up from down for some time. Can you tell me what he was doing tonight? He wasn't very cooperative in answering the questions, probably because he couldn't breath," Malachi stated. "Don't lie, I need the truth. It won't go further than it needs. It won't end up in Rita's column."

Oh good Lord, would the embarrassment never end?

"Arthur and I met for drinks and we had sex," she tersely informed the Healer.

"I figured that much out," the Healer snorted. "Whenever there is a boy and girl involved, sex is involved somehow. Either the getting of or the not getting. Were there any illegal potions involved? You know, to help him keep up with you?"

"NO," Hermione protested. "He didn't need any POTIONS to keep UP with me."

No, he had taken everything leisurely for her.

"My father has been under a great deal of emotional stress these past few months. My mother is currently a patient in the Saint Dympna's Dementia Ward where she does not recognize anyone."

That proclamation was in Percy Weasley's cold voice.

"Stress might be the reason for his elevated heart rate. We're getting some odd results from the tests so we're rerunning them. Dympna's?" Healer Mal questioned. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother."

"It's alright, she's happy," Percy stated. "She doesn't have any idea of what's she forgotten. Every day is a new adventure to her. And I object to your rather rude comments regarding my father and Ms. Granger. If he has found some happiness with her, do not gainsay it."

The Healer retreated back into the ward, and Hermione wasn't sure what startled her more. Percy's staunch defense of his father or the bear hug he then bestowed on her. Oh God, Molly had dementia? No wonder Arthur had reacted as though she had kicked him in his 'nads when she asked if his wife knew about his escapades.

"You and Father? How long?" Percy asked. "No, no, no. I shouldn't ask, but if he's happy? That's all I want to know he's been glum lately, as Mother has a new beau in the ward. He doesn't begrudge her it, but I can tell how much it hurts him. What happened tonight? Why is he in the ward? The rest of the family should be here shortly. Audrey is flooing them. Thank God, you were with him when this happened. I fear he would have died if you weren't there."

_I provoked your father into having a heart attack, Percy._

Hermione motioned for him to settle down.

"Your father and I... it's complicated. It was just tonight, and please don't tell anyone," she pleaded.

"I won't," Percy assured her. "They wouldn't understand."

"I need to go," she protested. "I can't be here when Ron and Harry show."

"You're family, Hermione. Father would want you here," Percy insisted. "And if you two are... even if you say you're not, because I can understand why you'd want to keep it quiet, you should be here."

"Your mother?" Hermione asked. "She's in Dympna's Ward?"

"Father didn't mention that's where she is? She has severe dementia. It came on unexpectedly, after Ron's little bout of misbehavior. Mum was so upset about what happened and we thought that her odd behavior was because of that. Then one day, Mom went nutters, screaming that my father was molesting her. He just gave her his usual good morning kiss and she had no idea who he was. It's been horrible for him. He sold the Burrow to a bunch of developers so he could pay for Mom's care."

"He sold the Burrow?" Hermione repeated.

"Harry offered to pay for her care, but Father refused. Said it was his own fault that he couldn't provide her with a proper house when she could appreciate it, and now it was his final chance to do right by her. I think part of it is that he's still well and truly angry at Harry and Ron's shenanigans. I've been slipping him what I can to help him pay his bills. He doesn't want to take it from me, but Audrey forces it on him."

"He wanted to make sure you got this note," Hermione explained. She pushed the crumpled parchment into Percy's hand. "I have to go. Really, I have to go. I'll be in touch."

"Hermione..." Percy pleaded. He nodded his head in acceptance of what he believed was the reason why she couldn't stay. Percy awkwardly embraced her once more. "You and Father you can come over to my house, anytime. Audrey would be so happy to know about you two. We've been so worried about him. You don't have to hide it with us."

She froze and Percy blabbered an apology. "I won't say anything. I won't."

"I have to go," she repeated.

* * *

She made it back to her flat and she collapsed into her chair. Arthur's old tattered leather bomber jacket was on the floor and finally, Hermione had to pick it up. Before Crookshanks made a nest out of it, Hermione decided.

No, instead, she wrapped herself in Arthur's jacket, smelling his cologne and she wept.

Hermione cried for Molly, for the sickness that had caused her to forget her life.

She wept for Arthur, who hadn't deserved her embarrassment induced vitriol. She had come unto him, nigh near forced herself on him. Perhaps, he had grown weary of his solitary life and had decided to willing partake in what Hermione was forcing on him.

She was no better than a whore, she knew.

Most of all, she cried for the potential in her womb. What was she going to do now?

* * *

The Weasleys descended in mass on St. Mungo's, a grave George Weasley deliberately squiring his sister. Not all the bad blood between the no-longer marrieds had been eased, and tensions ran high at the best of times.

Percy had taken control of the situation, much to big brother Bill's annoyance. He was the practical brother while Bill was the cool one. On a day when Molly had been feeling particularly strong-minded, after she had learned of her terminal diagnosis, she had sat Percy down. Percy was informed him that he would be the Weasley Son responsible for taking care of Arthur after Molly was incapacitated. Mother and son had a long discussion about many issues, the vast majority being sworn to secrecy between them.

"Father is having a tough enough paying for Mother's care. He won't be able to afford this," Percy tersely informed the Weasley horde. "Audrey and I can put something towards this."

"Perc, can't we find out what his problem is before we worry about money?" Ron asked.

Assorted eyes were rolled at Ron's financial obtuseness. He was Harry's kept Boy Toy so he didn't have to worry about finances.

"I'll pay," Harry quietly offered. "I'll pay for everything. Get the best specialists here and I'll take care of every expense."

It was a generous offer on Harry's part, but he was technically no longer a Weasley as he had divorced Ginny and taken up with her brother. The Weasleys took care of their own, thank you very, very, very much.

"I'll pay," inserted George, who was the only one who could unequivocally state that he was more affluent than Harry Potter. "I'll pay for everything. He's my Father. While we're at it, we need to all chip in and start paying for Mum's care. Dad's nearly bankrupt as Mum Mum is living longer than they expected."

His face turned pale and he retreated into himself. After the death of his twin, George was prone to moments of depression especially when difficult topics such as illness and death were required to be discussed.

Angelina patted George's hand and quickly continued the conversation for her husband, "We've been supplementing part of Arthur's rent on his flat, but we've got to move him to a better spot. Someplace where he can play with his plugs and batteries. Plus he should have enough room to have his grandkids visit for a spell. Speaking of which, I don't understand why some of us are not inviting him to dinner. We need to get him out of his flat more often."

"He doesn't particularly care for Fleur's cooking," inserted Bill. That earned him a painful sounding slap on his shoulder from his wife.

"Doesn't matter if he doesn't stomach your wife's cooking, Bill. You can take him out to dinner once in a while," protested Angelina. "He needs his family and some of us are too busy with new entertainments to pay any attention to him."

That comment was directed towards Ron.

"We invite him," Ron stated. "All the time. He claims he's busy."

"You're a blooming idiot," Ginny informed her brother. "He doesn't want to take sides."

Charlie, having made a career of handling dragons, heroically waded into the cat fight of Ron and Ginny. He did shove Harry rather hard with a curt, "You're not touching my sister, ever, ever again," though truth demands that Harry be credited with attempting to pull Ron away from his sister. The first blow thrown, it soon disintegrated into utter chaos. Accusations about sex, weight and natural hair color were made and flung with wild abandonment.

The Weasley War, Part IV, was quickly ended by St. Mungo's Security and the various parties were separated into the magically augmented seventeen corners of the room. Only then, after the various combatants promised to behave, did the Healer come into the room to give the Weasleys Warriors information.

It was accepted as the unspoken Gospel truth that the only person capable of controlling the Weasley Multitudes was currently inside the Cardiac Casualty Ward.

* * *

He couldn't stop sobbing. The pain in his chest was gone and he could breathe once again, but his tears wouldn't stop flowing.

He had cheated on Molly with Hermione.

One of the mediwitches gave him a potion to drink. It was sweet, too sweet and he nearly gagged on its sugary syrupiness.

"It'll help," she assured him. She dabbed his tears away until he ceased crying. "How do you feel?"

Artificially calm, Arthur decided after a long pause. He tried to lift his hands and they refused to cooperate. Talking was impossible as he couldn't voice anything.

"It's Soothing Syrup," the mediwitch explained. "Just relax and float. You're emotionally spent and you need to sleep."

Floating was nice, Arthur thought. Floating took away that always present ache that sapped his strength.

"Go to sleep," the woman told him. "You haven't been sleeping and your body needs you to rest."

Couldn't sleep at night, Arthur wanted to tell her. Nighttime was when the demons came, the ones that catcalled and tormented him by reminding him that his wife was in love with another man. Every day, he visited his Mollywobbles, spending some of his sparse funds on flowers, candy or some bright thing that might bring her a smile. He always brought her something, and if it was a good day for her, he'd brush her hair, make her look pretty for Roger.

Molly had no idea who he was.

He went every damn day to visit her and she had no idea who he was. Some days, Molly thought he was an attendant, other times, she thought he was Gideon or Fabian but never Arthur.

Once, she had called him FRED, and he had to leave the ward before he broke down in tears.

He was never, ever Arthur to her.

When Molly and he had discussed her diagnosis, she had given him his freedom. Arthur had refused to take it, had insisted that he would love her until the day he died. He wouldn't take his ring off, he had vowed.

Yet, he had.

He had watched her blushingly kiss a very willing Roger and that very same afternoon, Arthur had decided to take off his wedding ring. It had taken a bit of soap and an Expanding Charm to get the ring off his finger. Hadn't removed it since the day Molly had marked him as her personal property, and he had put on a wee bit of weight in the intervening years. The marriage was over, his wife loved another man and she didn't even know him.

He should have visited one of his children afterwards; instead he had gone to a bloody Muggle pub wanting to lose his pain in drink and noise. And he had found Anne He had found. _**Hermione**_ his soul screamed.

She had been so impatient with his insistence on foreplay. Poor little thing, she hadn't a proper understanding of how good touching could be. He had felt alive when he touched her and he couldn't get enough of the experience. Merlin's scrote, he had been ravenous in his need to touch and be touched.

He and Molly understood that quite well. Sex was always lots of fun, always lots of foreplay before they got to the nitty gritty. Except Molly had been avid like that the night he got her pregnant with Bill. She knew she was fertile and wanted to be pregnant immediately.

On the other hand, Arthur was a bit of a romantic. He thought babies should be made with a great deal of love and affection and so he had dawdled. Molly had been quite vexed with him, had threatened to go to a pub and pick up a man for the honors

Pick up a man....

Have sex with a stranger.

In order to get pregnant...

Hermione weeping in the kitchen. Ginny had just had her latest baby and Arthur had caught Hermione sobbing in the kitchen. He had feared that she and Ron were having problems, but he hadn't said a word. Instead, he had rubbed her shoulders and let her sob herself out.

How old was Hermione?

He was sixty five... Hermione was thirty six? He and Molly had long since stopped having kids by her age.

Oh no, she hadn't just gone to the pub to pick up a man. She had bloody decided to get knocked up by a complete stranger. He needed to do the contraceptive spell. He should have done it immediately after he had realized who Anne was.

His fingers wouldn't work. Arthur's exhausted mind couldn't think of the words. All he could think was of Hermione hysterically weeping.

_"Did you enjoy my performance? Did you like all the little tricks I learned in my desperate hopes that your son would grow to enjoy fucking me? I thought that maybe if I learned to go down on him properly, like Harry did, that Ron might agree to let me have a baby? Did you like how I sucked you? Did I do it right?"_

His heart was beating uncontrollably. It was jumping around, skipping beats and the chest pressure came back with a vengeance. There were two giants in the room, spinning the vise around his chest tighter and tighter.

**_NO, no, no_**. He did not just impregnate his daughter-in-law. _**No, no, no.**_ He was just jumping to conclusions.

He tried to scream but he was mute.

There was a great deal of noise in his ward. The various Healers were back, and they were busy chanting.

He took no notice of them. Instead, the words to the Contraceptive Charm Spell came to his mind. Arthur could non verbally cast it. There was still time to prevent Hermione holding Lily in her arms, crooning a soft lullaby to her niece. The longing look on her face.

**_No_**, Arthur thought. _I can't take this away from her. I've hurt her enough. If she wants to rid herself of it, she'll have to do it._

The room was growing dark and Arthur gratefully closed his eyes. He was so exhausted and the pain was increasing. He had pain in his left arm, his fingers were numb and he just couldn't breathe.

They were yelling his name, screaming at him and he just wanted to rest. Why, why, why must his children be so damn noisy? Couldn't they be quiet for once?

Percy poor, perpetually picked on Percywas in the ward, begging him to open his eyes. Arthur was able to find the strength to grasp Percy's hand and give it a squeeze.

"Love you," he mouthed.

_Hermione, you'll be such a wonderful mother_ was his last thought before everything went dark.

* * *

Hermione stayed awake, alone except for her thoughts. At five in the morning, she realized that not only did she have Arthur's bomber jacket, she had most of this clothes. During his heart attack, she had Charmed him into his pants and created a wizard's robe to cover him. With shaking hands, she carefully picked his trousers, shirt and vest off the floor and magically cleaned and pressed them. She even polished his shoes.

That done, she went back to her couch. She curled up into a ball and tried not to think.

Naturally, it didn't work.

She thought about slapping Arthur. Not once but TWICE.

In her heart, Hermione knew that she hadn't been slapping Arthur, no, it had been Ron and Harry she had slapped. Reliving her conversation with Percy, Hermione knew that she had been completely in the wrong. Arthur was a stand up fellow, a proper gentleman who only had stepped out on his wife AFTER his marriage was over.

The biggest distraction was her newly awakened tactile sensitivity. The feel of Arthur's leather bomber jacket was cool against her skin, and she couldn't help but compare the sensation to the warmth of his calloused hands and the softness of his mouth.

Oh bloody hell, she wanted sex again.

Didn't just want, she craved. She longed for it like a fix.

She needed to join a convent, where she could live a life of celibacy. With her track record of one boy now playing for the other Quidditch team and one permanently maimed, possibly dead victim, she was worse than a Black Widow Spider.

"No, he can't be dead," she pleaded to Crookshanks, who purred his comfort.

_You walked away from him_, her conscience reminded her. _He said he was having a heart attack and you didn't believe him. What did your father's cardiologist say? Time is of the essence to save heart muscle, and you abandoned him._

There was a knock on the door, and she jumped. She wasn't sure if she wanted to answer, as how could she face the Weasleys after killing Arthur? The knock continued and then she heard Percy's voice, "Hermione, it is Percy. Open the door."

She stayed exactly where she was. Hermione did not want confirmation that she was the bitch that killed Arthur Weasley.

Percy knocked again, and spoke louder, "It's good news, Hermione. It wasn't a heart attack. A few days in St. Mungo's and he'll be better than new."

She only realized that she had opened the door when Percy was hugging her.

* * *

"He hyper ventilated," Percy explained. "He was breathing too fast and that's what caused the chest pains and everything else. Father's under a lot of stress, he hasn't been eating properly plus he hasn't been sleeping. That's what set it off. They're putting him on a potion regime as the Healers believe that he's also suffering from severe manic melancholia. I've had to make up a visitor's schedule for the Ward, and you'll be allowed in at two in the afternoon for fifteen minutes."

"Schedule?" Hermione repeated.

"There was a bit of a brawl in the waiting room. St. Mungo's Head Healer said that Father is allowed two visitors for fifteen minutes every hour and unless he's dying, there is to be no more than two Weasleys in St. Mungo's waiting room at the same time. Father put me in charge of his health care decisions." There was a touch of delight in Percy's tone and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"We were never particularly close when I was growing up," admitted an embarrassed Percy. "He and Audrey are as thick as thieves, but he asked **_me_**. I would have thought BillHe's the oldest, but he asked for me to handle everything. Told me that I'd manage it properly."

Percy roughly wiped his eyes and then continued, "The others they're starting to chip in with Father's expenses and Mother's medical bills. He didn't want to ask George for anything because of Fred. George gets in a bad way sometimes and Mother's condition has been difficult for him. Can't even go visit her, though he's gotten as far as the door to St. Mungo's before he flees. Don't you worry; Angelina will keep a close eye on George and ensure that he doesn't have an anxiety attack."

"If you're scheduling time, you really should give my slot to someone else. You've got a large family," protested Hermione.

"You don't have to worry, your appointment is after George and Angelina and before he has another spell-test. I've been very careful about scheduling everyone. Harry and Ron aren't scheduled anywhere near you or Ginny." Percy flushed. "That was tactless, but I don't want you to worry about it."

"But..." Hermione continued to protest.

"Hermione, my father and mother always thought of you as a member of the family, even after everything. And since you and Father are what I won't mention to anyone including Audrey, then you should be there," Percy announced. "I'm supposed to give this to you from Father, if you were skiving off visiting. He explained that after your parents died, you're not comfortable in hospitals, but he really, really desires to see you."

A piece of parchment, sealed to her touch only. It took her several attempts to read the short note, what with her tearing eyes and Arthur's shaky handwriting.

**_ Please. Must talk. ~ A_**

"I'll be there," Hermione capitulated. "I have his clothes, Percy, please take them."

She gave him the clothes, but she kept his jacket. Hermione couldn't lose her last connection to Arthur, not just yet.

"Please show, or else I'll find you," Percy seriously informed her. "Everything Father wants, he'll get."

Wonderful, someone was being a tad bit too responsible.

* * *

Drifting.

He was drifting in a contented fog of potion induced bliss. Someone George had visited. His son had been shaking and trembling something fierce and when Arthur had warmly greeted him, George had broken into hysterical sobs. Arthur had created quite the ruckus among the staff when he had pulled George into his bed and hugged him tightly. When George got into that state, he just needed to be securely snuggled and repeatedly reassured.

George had a deep phobia of St. Mungo's since Fred's death and he never willingly went into the building. He had sent Molly in his stead when Angelina delivered their two children. Angelina hadn't been particularly happy with her spousal abandonment during her time of need but she had understood. The fact that he was actually visiting a ward at St. Mungo's meant that he feared the worst.

"Just got breathing a little too fast, m'boy," Arthur assured the shaking George. "All this hullabaloo because I was panting."

Poor boy, he hadn't ever really healed from soul shredding wound caused by Fred's death. Angelina had done a marvelous job with George, and little Fred and Roxanne caused George to smile once again. Yes, he never laughed anymore. Arthur would sell his soul and consider the deal a bargain if George would laugh once again. Sometimes, he'd chuckle but he never belly laughed like he once did.

The staff had interrupted their therapy session and had decided medicating everyone was the proper way of handling it. George, Arthur and ANGELINA were all sedated. Really, he had quite the daughter-in-law warrior. It was a might scary the way she had easily taken down those two security wizards. He vowed to remember to never to piss her off.

It was one minute past two and seemingly, Hermione had decided not to show. Probably for the best as it would be difficult to explain another maxillary fracture.

Best to slip into the warmth of blessed sweet oblivion, dream for a bit, pretend he'd know exactly what to say when she arrived.

Because he simply didn't know what to say. Arthur Weasley had never been particularly clever or witty, than had been Bilius's role in the family. He wasn't a leader, not by a long shot, as he let Molly make the important decisions.

Really, how much of the Happy Potion did they give him? He couldn't keep his eyes open, and yet his imaginings were so realistic. He had dreamed that a teary Hermione had visited and sat on his bed, holding his hand the entire time. She was wearing his old bomber jacket which seemed truly odd. The words came from his heart, but Arthur knew that Hermione would never hear them.

_ I was starving for the sensation of being touched. You were so sad that I thought the two of us might be good for each other. Stupid, stupid me. I was mourning the death of my marriage, and you...you were so wonderful, so giving to a heartbroken old man, Hermione._

When he next woke, the various Mediwitches were in the room as they had just finished one of the spell-tests. One of them asked about the small bag on the bed. He opened it and was chuffed to find a British Standards 1363 plug complete with some wiring, plugs and various fuses. There were even a few small tools.

The mediwitches just didn't understand about the joys of eckeltricity and couldn't comprehend his excitement.

Another mediwitch came in and then gave him more Soothing Syrup. The stuff would make his teeth rot but it helped him sleep. He was asleep before he noticed that his old leather bomber jacket was hanging on the back of a chair.

* * *

Hermione had arrived promptly at her scheduled time. It had taken a minute or two to gain access to his room as it seemed that everything and everyone going into Arthur Weasley's room was being thoroughly investigated by at least three highly skilled professionals. George Weasley had done somethingor perhaps Angelinaor maybe even Fred and Roxanne, no one had told her exactly who but apparently it involved Weasleys and singing, dancing bedpans.

Arthur was sleeping and her heart froze.

He looked like he was three days dead, warmed up and served as afters. Naturally, he had fallen asleep wearing his glasses, so she carefully removed them and placed them on his dresser. Then she realized that Arthur was staring at her, his blue eyes bleary.

"Hermione," he whispered. "I thought you decided not to come. It was a good thing as I didn't think I could explain another fractured cheekbone."

His sleepy, amused smile was crooked, and he touched his left cheek. "Still smarts."

"I'm sorry about that," she whispered.

To her surprise, he took her hand in his and squeezed it.

"'Tis alright. I'm not good with words, you know. That was my brother. He was the clever, witty one. I'm the plodder."

"You do just fine," Hermione protested. "I'm sorry, I didn't know about Molly."

"I was starving,Hermione. So hungry to be touch another person be touched. You seemed so sad and I thought we were both in mourning for our marriages... that perhapsand you were first rate to an old man." Arthur grimaced again and swallowed. "You thought I was thinking of someone else I wasn't. I never cheated on her... never looked at another woman but she doesn't even know who I am anymore."

"You just rest," she whispered.

"Stay? Until I'm asleep?"

"Yes," she promised.

"Don't forget, you promised me eggs and sausage for breakfast," his voice was slow as he was almost asleep.

"Toast, too," she reminded him.

"Better than the gruel they serve here," he mumbled.

Watching him sleep made Hermione realize that she had a bit of a crush on Arthur. More than a bit, she knew. It was the sex, she protested. First time in her life that she had experienced a jolly good shag (SHAGS, her conscience pointed out helpfully), so naturally, she was a bit fixated on him.

However, it wasn't just that.

Ron just wanted to have fun in life. He had never matured. Never would either, as he and Harry were often doing dangerous, heroic deeds. Their names were in the paper, they were constantly being rewarded for this escapade and for that feat of daring-do Why would he ever want to settle down with a wife and crying children? Arthur was a Ron who had actually decided to grow up, settle down and have a family with the woman he loved.

At one time, Hermione would have done anything to have Ron. And instead, she should have been looking for a younger Arthur all along.

She needed to get away. Just long enough to settle her head and figure out what she needed to do.

First things first, she needed to find someplace to live. Someplace that Arthur wouldn't be able to find her.

* * *

They kept him brimful of potions and sleeping regularly. When he'd wake, it wasn't surprising to find a stuffed animal snuggled next to him from one of his grandkids. Due to George's emotional response, it had been decided that George wouldn't be visiting him again. Instead, George had turned his energies to creating a disillusionment spell that allowed the grandkids to visit. The Secretive Sneak-In Spell worked surprisingly well. Even Percy had given his begrudging approval after his daughters, Lucy and Molly had been snuck in to see their Grand-pre, Well, actually, their Grandper, the bastardized English version of Grand-pre had that been lovingly bestowed on Arthur by his gaggle of grandchildren.

He also rapidly realized that Percy possessed a rather loose definition of who exactly was a Weasley family member. Lee Jordan was one such adoptee. Kingsley Shacklebolt had escorted the previously unknown Auntie Minerva Weasley McGonagall in. His new found relative severely chastised him for not taking better care of his health as he was desperately needed to keep the Weasley warren under control. Neville Longbottom didn't visit, but instead sent the most unusual plant. Its blooms changed colors depending on the position of the sun.

Luna Lovegood had also given him something he wasn't sure what from the deepest jungles of Borneo, but it gave off a comforting purr. Hopefully it didn't need to be fed, as Arthur wasn't quite sure what a purring mahogany box ate.

When he wasn't sleeping, he was reviewing assorted photos of years passed. Pictures of Fred made him misty eyed, though it was not infrequent for him to be sternly forcing Fred and George back into their proper photos. Their photographic doppelgangers often switched jumpers for the various family photos and twice, he caught them switching their photos in their single portrait photographs. Merlin's scrote, he remembered what a trouble that had been, as Molly had gotten it into her mind to have a separate picture of each twin. He had frog marched the boys and kept them firmly under control in order to get those pictures.

And the wedding photos, hundreds of photos. He had kept all the various photos of the assorted Weasley weddings, especially the ill-fated ones that had started off so happily. A glowing Ginny, smiling, as she married Harry. Someone had gotten a picture of Arthur dancing with the new Mrs. Potter, and he remembered that happy moment. Molly had been glowing also, for an entirely different reason. The shame of it, the mother and father of the bride had nearly been late to their only daughter's wedding as they had been distracted.

Ron's had been the last of the various marriages. In fact, he and Hermione had gotten betrothed right after Ginny and Harry had announced theirs. Arthur had always been rather uneasy about the timing of that particular marriage, thinking Ron was too bloody young to get married and that the couple's relationship vibes were off. Harry and Ginny? Yes. Harry and Ron? Oh, yes, yes, yes. Ron and Hermione? No. Hermione had been over the moon ecstatic over their engagement. Ron had been a bit more blas. As though the marriage was something to be done, and best done quickly.

He and Molly had sworn never to get involved in any of their children's marital difficulties. That had proven difficult the first time Fleur had thrown Bill out; they had refused to let Bill stay for 'just the night' at the Burrow. Arthur had broken that vow just once, when he had sat down Ron and asked him if was really confident in his decision to get married. A rather indignant YES had been Ron's answer and he let it be.

Another nice picture, he thought. It was one of him and Hermione dancing and she was smiling up at him.

His heart lurched again, and he took the small vial that he was instructed to take whenever his heart decided to skip around like a misbehaving school boy.

Take a deep breath, he reminded himself. Think happy thoughts.

He opened the oldest of the photo albums, a thin, leather bound volume that was cracked and peeling in spots. It had been examined many times over the years by various hands, both large and small, clean and the not-so-clean. Among many treasures, it held his wedding photo when he and Molly had eloped. Arthur was grinning like a loon and Molly was blushing as they kept snogging. Sometimes they'd disappear completely from the frame and he couldn't help his fond smile.

"Mollywobbles, it's been nearly fifty years, and except for the last year, I wouldn't change a single thing. As for the last year, I just wish I had known because I would have worked harder at providing a better life for you, but I don't think I could have loved you any more. Be happy with Roger, love."

He closed the photo album and then kissed it once. He laid it against his chest and hugged it.

"Now, Ms. Granger, I have to decide how to handle you. You need time but I just can't abandon you. I also need to get my strength back. So, yes, I have to take their damn potions, and sleep most of the day away. I should be out in a few days, and then I'll find you. Hopefully, this time, you won't want to hit me."

* * *

Hermione raced back to her flat where she promptly lied to her landlady. She claimed that she had a new job that would require her moving to a new location. She promised that she'd pay her rent for the remainder of the lease and the payment was all that Margaretta focused upon. Fortunately, Margaretta was quite the deaf witch as she hadn't heard Hermione's hysterics the previous night.

Really, she had faced Lord Voldemort and his assorted Death Eaters, why the bloody hell was seeing Arthur Weasley so much harder? Hermione debated the issue and being a little too analytical, she wrote up her list on why she was terrified of seeing Arthur Weasley face to face.

Reasons Why I am Terrified of Meeting Arthur Weasley Face to Face

Had Sex with ex-father-in-law.

She crossed that out so roughly she tore the paper.

1. Had Sex with ex-father-in-law.

She crossed that out so roughly she tore the paper.

1. Made love with Arthur.

a. Enjoyed it very, very, very much. Very, very, very, very, very, very much.

i. Especially the oral sex bit. And Arthur holding my hand during it? I felt… protected… cherished…

b. Multiple orgasms. MULTIPLE as in MORE THAN ONE in the same month. Multiple orgasms as in Oh My Good God did the Neighbors Hear Me Scream Good.

2. Did not act appropriately when truth came out.

a. Had complete meltdown.

b. Turned into the shrew that Ron accused me of being.

c. Slapped Arthur not once but twice.

d. Wouldn't listen to him at all when he tried to explain.

i. Not his fault. It's mine as I'm an uncaring, self-absorbed bitch (See Ron for more details). It's always about me, me, me.

e. Left Arthur to die when I thought he was having a heart attack.

i. Saving grace - I did get him clothed and to St. Mungo's where it seems he was just having an emotional reaction to the Not Very Happy News that he just Fucked Hermione Granger.

1. Seem to have that affect on all Weasley Men. Possibly Genetic Link?

3. Very strong possibility that I am pregnant.

a. Clinic Ads promised 97.78952% chance of pregnancy if procedures followed correctly.

i. Arthur's the Great Inseminator. Just round up the odds to 100% and send out the birth announcements before OWL rates increase. Standard procedure was that all the Weasley daughter-in-laws never stood too close to him during that part of our cycle. Just to be safe.

4. Reactions Possible to # 3.

a. Cons

i. Molly.

1. Guilty doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. Remorseful, ashamed, horrified…

ii. Bugger Ronald and Harry.

1. Hope they suck each other off and choke.

b. Pros

i. I desperately want a little ginger haired baby of my own to love.

1. This is my only chance as

a. I am never ever going to be able to pick up a man again. There is no way it could be worse. Even a Ménage à chevre with Aberforth wouldn't make me feel this bad.

b. I've spent all my money on the Magical and Muggles procedures necessary to get pregnant.

c. Arthur's possible reactions if I'm pregnant.

i. Heart Attack – this time for real. (Strong possibility)

ii. Fury (Strong possibility)

1. Will want me to have abortion.

2. Will deny child.

3. Will want custody.

4. Resigned, what's one more baby when you've had seven?

5. Blissfully happy. (Extremely unlikely)

a. In a year or so, will give baby a ginger haired sibling.

5. Things I need to do.

a. Run like hell.

i. Do not pass Go, do not collect £200 salary.

b. Take pregnancy test.

c. If not pregnant

i. Cry

1. Accept that it would be for the best, as

a. Ron always said I'd be a lousy mother.

b. Baby Daddy not happy.

d. If pregnant

i. Cry

1. Make THE decision because I can't do this to Arthur.

List making always restored Hermione's equilibrium. She felt much calmer after she listed the many reasons why she needed to Run Like Hell. Her hands were still shaky, so further soul soothing was needed. She took a new piece of paper and entitled it, What Baby will Need if I ever Have One. Within thirty minutes she had quite the detailed list, but Hermione saw that it was missing a very important item.

**_Father._**

There was no father on her list.

Enough. She could sit there and make lists all day or she could start Charming everything and miniaturizing her furniture for her new place. Not everything in the apartment was hers, and she'd rather prefer NOT to take the bed with her, yet she wouldn't get a good night's rest sleeping on the floor.

* * *

It was almost two bloody, stinking weeks before the vultures at St. Mungo's allowed him to be released to Percy's care. TWO weeks! TWO! Thirteen days with no word from Hermione. Then the Healers talked over him like he wasn't even in the room. Yes, he had been diagnosed with Palpitations, Acute Stress Disorder and Manic Melancholia plus a host of other conditions, but he was feeling much better now. Simply amazing what swilling a vat of happy-clappy potions and sleeping twenty two hours a day did for someone.

"Mr. Weasley, I'd suggest that your father not visit your mother for the next few days. He needs to rest and conserve his strength. It's not as though your mother notices if he doesn't visit," Healer August bluntly informed Percy.

"I notice," inserted Arthur. "It doesn't matter if she does not know that I visit, but I know."

"You need to rest, Mr. Weasley. You worked yourself into a state of physical and emotional collapse," the Healer reminded him.

"So glad you reminded me, I _**never**_ would have remembered," Arthur dryly commented.

"Dad," Audrey hissed. "Shhh... we can get out faster if we just nod our heads. We're not planning on following their instructions. Of course, you'll go see Mum."

Therefore he bit his tongue until it nearly bled. For three hours, he sat in the wheelchair while they talked about his discharge instructions. Funny, being bit by Nagini hadn't required this much chatter. Then it had been a simple, "Bleeding is bad. You start bleeding, immediately come back. Good luck, please try to avoid any big snakes in your future."

He did discover that Luna's mahogany box was rather soothing. He began stroking it to give himself something to do it and it began purring loudly. It was rather comforting, the grain of the wood, the warmth of it and its mellow humming.

When he woke, he found himself in bed in Percy's spare room.

Percy was in the room, dozing in a comfortable chair. He must have Cast an Wake Up alarm as he unexpectedly sat up straight and opened his eyes.

"Father! You're up. Wonderful. You slept through yesterday, but don't you worry. Audrey made brunch for when you woke. I took the rest of the week off from work, so I'll be here if you need anything. You're having dinner with us tonight, tomorrow; Bill will take you out to dinner."

Oh bloody hell; his family had decided to babysit him. The lot must be feeling guilty about ignoring the old man, not realizing that the old man was quite delighted to be left alone.

"There's been a great deal of post for you," explained Percy. "I'll get it together. After you've showered and shaved, come downstairs and I'll have brunch ready."

Shave? Arthur rubbed his fingers over his chin, surprised that he needed a shave. How long had it been since he had shaved? Almost two weeks? Longer? How long had it been since he wore a beard?

* * *

He decided to keep the beard, symbolizing a rebellious break between the old Arthur and the current version. It was gray though, quite gray, but then again, he was an old man. Also it might be useful if he needed to search for Hermione as he looked different. A thinner, older, more exhausted version of Arthur.

Lots of posts, mainly from his extended family, be they blood, adopted or newly discovered Weasleys found under the cabbage leaves, in the post box or abandoned on the front steps. Nothing from Hermione, but she had always been polite.

Was he truly expecting a note? Something along the lines of:

_ Dear Arthur, I'm quite disappointed that you didn't drop dead as I had zealously hoped. Was St. Mungo's able to do anything about your short dick syndrome?_

_No love,_

_H _

Percy was acting odd. Some people might not believe it, but Arthur knew when one of his many children was attempting to hide something from him. The question had always been was it worth getting the bad news confirmed or just hoping it would blow away? Arthur Weasley was a bit more of the 'let it please blow away' type person. Molly believed in confronting issues head on, while Arthur was otherwise. He just hated conflict, especially when it came to family.

"What's bothering you, Percy?" Arthur asked his son. "Don't tell me nothing's bothering you. Something is. You want me out?"

"No, no, I'm glad you wanted to recover here," Percy protested. "My house is yours for however long you wish to say."

I don't remember wishing that, Arthur wisely didn't say. What he did say was "Percy, fish and relatives begin to stink after three days. I won't overstay my welcome."

"No, no. It's not that," Percy protested.

Yes, Percy was definitely squirming. Time to get fatherly and see if he could crack Percy like an egg. Considering their previously tense relationship, he shouldn't even think like that, but he needed information.

"Something is bothering you, Percy. I know you don't like confiding in me, but I am your father. I do love you." That was the sincere truth. "I know that you and I have had our rough patches."

"I'm sorry about that, I was such an arse," Percy blurted.

"Part of growing up, Perce," Arthur assured him. "But I had hoped we had moved on from that. Recent events have proven that really, family is forever. I do love you, Percy. Whatever happens between us that will never, ever change that."

Percy was definitely cracking. He was looking at his shoes, which meant that he felt guilty.

"Come on, Percy. It can't be that bad. What happened?"

"I noticed that you haven't heard from someone," Percy confessed. "And I was wondering if I had caused a problem?"

"Who haven't I heard from?" Arthur questioned.

"I'm sorry," Percy whispered. "I didn't know about you two, but I overheard her with your Healers.. Dad"

Percy never called him Dad except for the rarest of times.

"Dad? Did I ruin it?"

"Ruin what?" Arthur asked. Really, he needed to stop taking his bloody potions as he was six sentences behind everyone else in this conversation.

"Your relationship with Hermione? I swore I wouldn't say anything, but Dad, she's not writing you and I had to twist her arm for her to visit you in Mungo's. I really, really didn't mean to ruin it," insisted the son that Arthur Weasley would never ever begin to hope to understand.

Perce was hurting though and Arthur put his arm around him. To his surprise, Percy clung to him tightly, like he had when he was younger and thought his dad hung the sun and the stars in the skies for him.

"You know? How much?" Arthur questioned.

"Didn't mean to ruin it," Percy whispered. "I know that you had met for drinks that night and had gotten together that night."

Percy _**knew **_that his father _**cheated **_on his mother.

"It's alright, Perce. You didn't do anything. Our relationship such as it was... such as it is... it's rather delicate," Arthur struggled to explain. "Percy, I'm not proud of what I did, but with your mother "

He ceased talking and swallowed several times. How could he explain the depths of his loneliness to Percy? More importantly, did he need to burden his son with the truth?

"Dad, you don't have to explain anything about you and Hermione. I'm delighted that you found someone. Mum worried so much about you, thought you might decide to be noble and pine away for her. She wanted you to be happy."

No, he would never understand Percy. Never ever, even if Albus Dumbledore, clad in purple bespangled robes, rose from the grave and handed him the '_Arthur Weasley's Guide (in very Small Words) to Understanding Percy as written by Albus Dumbledore_' guidebook.

"You're not angry?" a disbelieving Arthur asked.

"Why? You never cheated on Mum when you were married. I mean, technically, you're married, but in reality, you're not. I was trying to determine a way you could sneak Hermione in for night visits without Audrey, Molly and Lucy noticing."

"That's why there's a new entrance," whispered Arthur. "As for Hermione, I don't think she's particularly happy with me. I mean, I did have a full blown anxiety attack."

Not the complete truth, but all that he'd be willing to share with Percy.

"Do you want to visit her? See if you use some of the Weasley savoir-faire to get back into her bed?" Percy asked.

Arthur knew he was his face was the shade his hair had once been. "I can't believe that I'm having this conversation with you, Perce."

"You were the one that sat me down for The Talks," Percy reminded him.

Really, Percy was enjoying his dad's discomfort a bit too much.

"And Weasley savoir-faire? I don't think I have any."

"Where did Bill get it from then?" Percy asked.

"Fabian and Gideon," Arthur retorted.

* * *

"Any problems just let me know," Percy had chortled after he had escorted his father toward Hermione's flat. "Remember, side door. Just make sure that Molly and Lucy haven't snuck into your bedroom if you bring Hermione home. And if you don't come home tonight, can you owl me? So I don't worry?"

Arthur didn't answer as he was attempting to find a large enough rock to hide behind so he could die in peace. When the bloody hell had Percy grown up and turned into Arthur's father Septimus?

Percy left and that left Arthur by himself. Hmm... a lifetime of being parents to a warren of red-headed troublemakers gave him a sixth, seventh and eighth sense for possible complications. He needed to check for Alarms, Wards and other Charms that Hermione might have done.

Nothing.

He checked again, as really it was too easy. Could Hermione have left nothing up for Defence? Truly, Hermione needed a serious conversation regarding personal safety.

He put his hand out to the door and made a twisting gesture.

The door was unlocked? This wasn't good.

He knocked or tried, but the first rap of his knuckle on the door caused it to swing open wide.

The entry way was empty. No rug, no umbrella stand, nothing. He walked further into her flat and there were only a few odds and ends, but just about everything was missing. The sofa, the various book cases. There were a few things left, including a few Muggle style writing utensils and some Muggle style paper.

"You poor girl, don't tell you've gone and done something stupid," murmured Arthur. Instinctively, he reached for the vial that was in his left pocket and he quickly drank it all. He put his hand on his chest and sternly warned his heart to behave. "Keep looking, she might have left something. An idea of where you can start looking for her."

Nothing, even the ruddy bed was gone. He damn surprised that she hadn't just torched it and left it in the middle of her bedroom. To exorcise that particular demon.

Bloody hell, he had to find her.

Impulsively, he took the Biros, thinking that he might be able to charm them into revealing her location. He wasn't expecting to read Hermione's lists when he Charmed them, but it was probably for the best that he had. Forewarned, was forearmed.

He needed to work on being calm. Or at least projecting a serene quality.

Perhaps, he might be able to work into a resigned acceptance of the possibility of another baby. After all, what was another baby when you've already had seven?

* * *

His swan dive must have scared his children, as he found himself with quite the social calendar chock full of family events. Last night, it had been dinner with Bill. Today, he was having a late lunch with Harry, Ron and Teddy. Ted was his adopted grandson, so Arthur had to admit that he was touched that Teddy sprouted a beard to match his during lunch. He loudly disagreed with how much grey Teddy put into it, so Teddy decided to make it a bright, happy blue.

"So, I hear that you're interested in Victoire," Arthur questioned Teddy.

Grandfathers were not supposed to know such things and Teddy's blue beard clashed greatly with his pink hair.

He didn't really wish to have lunch with Ron and Harry. Teddy was more than acceptable company as long as he didn't tattoo his face and sprout assorted piercings, but Ron and Harry. No bloody way of excusing himself as it seemed that everyone in the Weasley family wanted to see him before he breathed his last. Damn shame so few of them cared enough to see their mother.

Arthur kept the conversation light and polite. He wasn't particularly thrilled with either of the two men, but they were family. Too bad that they couldn't have handled their particular divorces with any sense of decorum.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry began.

"Arthur," was his instinctive response. He had been Arthur after Harry's marriage to Ginny and then Harry had gone back to calling him Mr. Weasley after the separations had been announced.

"Sir," Harry continued. "I want to help pay for Mrs. Weasley's care."

"No," protested Arthur. "I don't want your money."

He stood up so he could leave before he lost his temper.

"Sir..." Harry protested.

"Money is a poor substitute for the fact that she loved you like her own son, and you haven't visited her once." Arthur paused and then informed the three men. "Getting ill, getting infirm, it's part of life. You can't throw money at it in the hopes of covering the ugliness of it. Now, if you don't mind, I want to stop by my office."

Ron protested, and Arthur knew he was misdirecting his own anger at himself onto the boys.

"She might not remember your names, but she does remember that she likes flowers. May not even remember what they're called, but she knows they're pretty. Go spend some of your money on that if you're feeling guilty. It'll give her a moment of pleasure and you can assuage your guilty consciences."

Arthur returned to the Ministry where he half heartedly acknowledged the many get well wishes from his various co-workers. He didn't return to his office, but he stopped by Hermione's office. The door was closed and one of her co-workers saw him.

"She's not here," Tavish informed him. "Having a bit of a holiday as she took the week. Good thing too, she's been working herself to the bone."

"Works too hard," Arthur agreed.

"You too, I heard you were in Mungo's. You're still not looking particularly chipper, Arthur. Should you be here?"

"No," Arthur easily agreed. "I shouldn't be here."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Bookends  
**Author:**  
**Prompt Number:** 194  
**Rating:** M - cursing  
**Main Pairing:** Hermione/Arthur  
**Secondary Pairings:** BW/FW, CW/Dragons, PW/AW, GW/AW, RW/HG, GW/HP, HP/RW  
**Summary:** There's a new Weasley on the way! Arthur's the dad and Hermione's the mum! How do the Weasleys react?  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.  
**Warnings/Kinks:** Prat!Ron  
**Word Count:** ~46,500 words. So wish I was kidding.  
**Author's Notes:** Thanks to my Betas, the letters J, K & L.  
**Synopsis:** Arthur is searching for Hermione.

_Time it was and what a time it was it was,  
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.  
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph  
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you._

_ Bookends_ by Simon and Garfunkel

* * *

He picked up a bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. The kind he had picked for her when they were first married. But he just couldn't bring himself to visit her today. He thought his heart would break if he did. But he had an armful of wild flowers, what to do with them?

Keegan and Rose Granger.

He'd pay them a visit and apologize. If he Charmed the flowers, they'd stay fresh for a bit.

So that's what he did. He went to their graves, put the flowers in the stone urn next to their headstones, and he sat on the ground.

"I need to ask your forgiveness," Arthur explained. "I know, Rose that I promised that I'd keep an eye on your daughter, but I didn't do such a good job."

He nattered on for a bit, about everything. Molly's illness, the various divorces and whatever else came to mind, except that one bit. It would be bad form for Hermione's father to leap from his crypt, crying blue murder and attempt to strangle him.

At last he was done talking, and he just decided to sit. Enjoying the solitude, he didn't immediately realize that Hermione was leaving the grave site.

"No, no, no I'm just going," he insisted. "Just thought I'd visit your parents."

Brushing the sod off his pants, trying to avoid looking at her, he didn't fail to notice that Hermione was shivering.

"You're cold," he chastised her. "You need a proper jacket. Here, borrow mine."

The old leather bomber jacket had seen its better days two or more decades ago, but it would do in a pinch. Without commenting, Arthur noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the minute changes in her complexion and how exhausted she seemed. He knew those symptoms, knew what they could mean as well as any midwife did.

It broke all sense of propriety but he cast a pregnancy detection spell on Hermione. She glowed brightly for a few seconds and then it faded from his sight. Oh bloody hell, _**she is**_, Arthur sighed.

It was a kick to his 'nads, but he kept smiling. He expected the confirmation, as after all, he was the Great Inseminator.

He held out his jacket and reminded her to take it. It was far too big for her, but she rolled up the sleeves and zipped it up. She took the collar and sniffed it for just a moment.

"A few weeks ago, I met a very nice man by the name of Michael. He wore the same cologne," she explained. "I love the smell of British Sterling Silver."

"What a coincidence, I met a very sweet girl by the name of Anne about the same time. I rather miss her," he confessed.

"Seems silly to miss someone that you only knew for a few hours," Hermione seriously stated.

They walked away from the grave sites and down to a small dirt path. Silent, they both made the decision to sit on an old stone bench that overlooked the lake.

"She made me feel alive," Arthur admitted. "If you see her, please let her know that I miss her a great deal."

"I thought she was a bit of a bitch," Hermione informed him. "Bit of a flake plus quite the temper. You deserve better."

"Anne's had it rough the last few months. Sometimes, the pain overwhelms even the gentlest of souls," was his easy answer.

"I miss Michael," Hermione whispered.

Hesitantly, he put his arm around her. "He's still here, worried about his poor Annie."

"Annie?" Hermione asked.

"Definitely an Annie, not an Anne. Is there something you wish to tell me? Something you think might make me angry?" Arthur offered that slowly. "I promise you that I will not lose my temper."

"I I might be pregnant," she offered that slowly and then she physically tensed.

"When will you know for certain?" Arthur calmly asked. He was forewarned, so it wasn't such a horrible surprise. He sounded almost composed about it. Accepting. Yes, and his soul screamed about this ultimate betrayal of his Mollywobbles.

"I have an appointment with a midwife next week," she offered. "I took five different tests and I peed on the bloody sticks."

"You urinated on a stick to find out if you're pregnant?" A perplexed Arthur asked. "And how does the stick inform you that you're pregnant?"

"It's roughly 99.5% accurate. If you're pregnant, the little spot on the stick turns a different color. Or else you get another line or"

"No happy faces?" Arthur asked.

"No, no, you don't get a happy face if you're pregnant," Hermione said.

"One would think that might rate a happy face on a stick," Arthur somberly stated. "So, did you get a line?"

She nodded and then began cataloging what the various sticks had done. Truly, Arthur was a bit queasy and rather sad. Pregnancy deserved a happy face. Well, he chastised himself, a happy face was appropriate if the baby was loved and wanted.

"But it's only 99.5% accurate. There can be false positives because it's early," Hermione explained. "That's why I decided I needed a blood test."

"99.5% accurate, I think it's safe to say that you're pregnant," said Arthur. "Would you have told Michael?"

"No," she confessed.

"Would you have told Arthur?" was his next question.

"After the baby was born, I would have asked you and Molly to be grandparents."

Hermione was shaking, so he pulled her closer to him.

"It'll be alright, whatever happens. We'll get through it together," he assured her.

"You don't seem surprised," she asked.

"I know you wanted children. You're also not the type of woman to go to a bar and just pick up a man. You're meticulous, thorough and detailed orientated. You planned to get pregnant," Arthur said.

"You make me sound so cold blooded," she whispered.

"Determined, there's a difference," he retorted.

"I can abort," Hermione offered.

He felt a cold shiver run down his backbone. This is my only chance, she had written. I have to make THE decision as I can't do this to Arthur.

"Only if you want to," was his answer. "What do you want to do?"

"I'll abort," she whispered. She didn't look at him when she said that.

"You don't even know if you're definitely pregnant, Annie," Arthur reminded her. "There's that .5% chance that you aren't."

"I just wanted it so badly," was her response. "There's something seriously a matter with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," protested Arthur. "It's normal to want a family, Annie."

"I picked up a stranger in a pub in order to get pregnant," Hermione explained. "And then, after I knew that it was my father-in-law, I didn't cast the Whoops! Morning After Spell. I just wanted it so badly."

"We need to go some place private, so we can talk. I'll cast the spell, see if you're one hundred percent pregnant, and thenwe'll discuss what I can do to help you," Arthur said.

Oh bloody hell, he was weakening. He was a bloody sop when it came to babies, and didn't Hermione deserve some happiness? After being made a public spectacle by Ron and Harry?

"I have enough money, you don't have to put any money toward it," Hermione assured him.

"Stop focusing on money. We don't even know if you're pregnant. Come with me, we'll do the spell. If you're pregnant, please promise me that you won't do anything for twenty four hours. We did this together, and we'll figure it out together," Arthur firmly requested.

"Please don't be so nice to me," Hermione tearfully requested.

"I'll be nice to you as I want to be. After all you're 99.5% pregnant," Arthur informed her. "Therefore I'm allowed to be 99.5% nice to you."

"I deserve the other .5%," protested Hermione.

"Let me decide that," Arthur retorted.

* * *

He took her home with him, or more correctly, where he was currently staying. Being a Weasley father, he tripled spell cast the doors shut.

Arthur and Hermione sat on his bed. He put his left arm around her and then put his right hand on her belly. Hermione was instructed to put her hand on top of his.

"Now, this will prove 100% one way or the other," Arthur told her. "Tell me what you see after I've cast the spell."

Deliberately, he positioned her so she was resting her head on his shoulder. He whispered the spell after he kissed her on top of her head.

"Is that part of the spell?" Hermione asked.

"Most important part," he assured her. It was the most significant part because it was a gentle way of reminding Hermione that affection and warmth **_STILL _**existed between them. "Now, we wait."

They waited for a bit and then Hermione sharply inhaled.

"What do you see?" Arthur asked.

Instead of answering, she broke into tears. What the bloody hell? She was and now she wasn't? He held her tighter and let herself cry until she had no tears left.

"What did you see?" Arthur asked. "You're not?"

"A happy face," Hermione whispered.

Arthur Weasley felt a shiver of fear. Well, he was the Great Inseminator. No fertile woman dared tempt him with their charms because they bloody knew what would happen in nine months.

"What color?" was his next question.

"I guess it was lilac," she decided.

Lilac. Pink and Blue?

"Is that important?" Hermione asked.

"Might be the sex of the baby," he said.

"LILIAC?" she squeaked.

"Possibly," he admitted. "That part of the spell is always a little hairy. With Ginny, we had seven happy faces. We ran to the midwife for confirmation."

"I can't ruin your life."

"Hermione, I asked you for twenty four hours before you made any decisions. I can assure you that you being pregnant will not destroy my life. It will make your life significantly harder, especially if you decide to have the baby. I can not marry you, Hermione."

"Marriage?" Hermione's voice rose still higher.

"If I was in a position to be able to marry you, I would ask you," Arthur admitted. "It wouldn't be a love match, but it would be easier for me to help you. You'd be held to ridicule as an old man's midlife crisis, but compared to the stigma of being an unwed mother?"

"Arthur" was her weak protest.

"You wanted this," Arthur retorted. "Not with me, I know, but it's happened."

"I could leave Londonno one would ever know. You wouldn't have to deal with this" she explained.

"No, we're doing this together, Hermione," protested Arthur. "I will not abandon you."

Mercy! She started weeping again and Arthur didn't know what he had done. He held her closer to him and kept rubbing her back, assuring her that everything would be alright. Then he stopped talking as they were too busy kissing.

His last coherent thought?

Lovemaking had gotten him into this problem, why the hell did he think it would solve it?

* * *

His new beard was scratchy but Hermione liked it anyway. Its coarseness was such an interesting sensation especially against some of her more sensitive areas. Speaking of interesting feelings, Arthur was rapidly earning the title of Weasley Sex God as he was even better than the first time. More thorough, more deliberate, more insistent on driving her absolutely wild.

He was holding her hands in his left, and his right hand was between her legs, teasing her while she pleaded with him to stop her sweet torment. He kissed her into submission and then smiled at her.

"Enjoying yourself?" His concern sounded sincere, but he was so damn smug.

Oh Good God, she had it bad for him.

"Yes," she shyly admitted.

He sat up then and positioned himself so he was resting against the headboard.

"Wonderful. So, Annie, you've been satisfied quite a few times, so Michael wants to knowif you want to be on top" He gave her a wicked grin.

It had always been missionary with the Short-Wanded Boy She Would Not Name, but a delighted Hermione was finding out that Arthur liked variety. He even talked to her about what he wanted to try instead of expecting her to guess. To Hermione's delight, the vast majority of his erotic ideas were focused on her obtaining complete satisfaction.

"What do I do?" she asked.

"Whatever you want to do," he assured her. "I'm an old man, and I've been thoroughly exhausted by this sexual succubus. I'm throwing myself on her mercy and hope that she'll be gentle with me."

She straddled him and he closed his eyes.

"Have mercy on me," he whispered. "But what a way to go. You feel so good."

Nervously, she leaned over to kiss him. Their lips brushed against each others, taking it very slowly.

"Delightful," he assured her when they finally stopped kissing.

Slightly emboldened, she traced his mouth with her fingers.

"Where do you want me to put my hands?" Arthur asked.

"Arthur," she protested.

"Show me," he instructed. "Don't be shy, just take my hand."

He was still smiling at her when they both heard the tell-tale pop of an Apparition.

"Dad," a Weasley boy announced. "I figured you were bored so I brought our latest from the shop."

Arthur cast a spell. Whatever it was, it wrapped Hermione completely from head to toe in a green silk burqa. Horrified, she attempted to hide her face, but upon hearing the pop, Arthur had instinctively positioned her so George couldn't see her face. While he was protecting her modesty, he had somehow managed to grab a pillow to hide his bits.

"George, I can assure you that I'm not bored as I'm in the midst of something quite enjoyable," he politely told his son. "I'll talk to you in an hour. Possibly longer as I plan on being quite thorough."

"Oy!" George yelped. "Dad!"

"George, you will sit in the parlor," Arthur sternly ordered. "You will not say anything to anyone about this until I talk to you."

In a softer voice, he whispered to Hermione, "I'll handle this."

"Oy!" was his George's next exclamation. "I'm blind! I'm scarred for life!"

Once again, Arthur sternly instructed his son to leave the room. George Disapparated with a slight whimper and Arthur began kissing Hermione once more. He sighed when he realized that the mood was shot.

"Hermione, you have to realize something. If you have children, magical children, they do have a tendency of disturbing the quieter moments. If I stopped having sex the first time one of my children interrupted, well, Bill would be an only child. I need to get dressed and talk to George."

"What are you going to tell him?" Hermione asked.

"That you and I met one night, and this developed." Arthur answered that easily.

"Nothing about?" Hermione whispered.

"No, you have to figure out what you want to do. It is completely between us and with whomever you chose to discuss it. I won't say anything to anybody," promised Arthur.

He leaned over her and kissed her once.

"Don't leave," Arthur requested. "We should talk, or if you don't want to talk, we can always cuddle. Just please don't leave."

* * *

Arthur slowly got dressed. This conversation he didn't want to have, because he didn't want to deal with it. He wasn't sure how he bloody felt about ANYTHING and now he had to discuss it with the son that required the most delicate handling of all his children.

It was even worse than he believed possible. Angelina and Audrey were waiting for him, and by the We are NOT Amused looks on their faces, they knew. George was sitting in the corner of the room, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking, and Percy was pulling out a medicinal bottle of firewhiskey.

"Will she be joining us?" Audrey snapped.

"No," Arthur answered. "I told her that I'd handle this. Go ahead, scream at me, George. Tell me how I betrayed your mother"

George just shook his head and Arthur sat down next to his son.

"I know you're angry. I would never betray your mother, but I have just been so lonely. She was ill for a while, George. We didn't tell anyone." Arthur wiped his eyes. "Molly doesn't even know who I am. She is the love of my life, and I mean nothing to her. She doesn't even know my name. Sometimes, it hurts so much that I'm surprised that I don't bleed from the pain."

"She's your daughter in law," Audrey retorted.

"Ex," Angelina inserted. "They've always been close and they're consenting adults. Hermione isn't married and neither is Arthur. Well, not really."

"This is new between us," Arthur explained to his son. "We just started this"

George said not a word and then Arthur tousled his son's hair.

"Talk to me, George. Say something, please," Arthur pleaded.

George was in tears, and Arthur's heart broke. "Come on, talk to me. Please."

Instead, George just shook his head. "Can't" was his broken response.

"George, I'm so sorry, I am. I wish you hadn't seen that," admitted a heartbroken Arthur. "I can't expect you to understand. Every morning for almost fifty years I woke up next to your mother. She's not there, and it just hurts George? Please, talk to me?"

Angelina moved to her husband's side, urging him to let it out, and George finally looked at his father. His eyes were red and he was laughing.

_**Laughing.**_

A big belly laugh burst out from George and the bastard laughed until he cried. It was probably the best sight Arthur had seen in almost twenty years. Didn't mean that Arthur didn't wish he was the type to thrash his children as George deserved a good thrashing after scaring him like that.

"Looks like the joke's on Ron!" George finally gasped.

"Bugger," Arthur snapped. He normally didn't use such language but really Bugger.

The two Weasleys tightly embraced and then George pushed his father away. "Your beard's scratchy," he playfully protested which earned him another hug from his father complete with a facial rub.

"Percy? Are you saving that firewhiskey for Christmas? Or pouring?" Arthur demanded.

* * *

To Arthur's profound shock, George approved of his 'relationship' with Hermione. Angelina also, but Audrey was a bit uncertain about the propriety of Arthur shagging his daughter-in-law.

"I don't love her, Audrey," Arthur admitted. "Not in the way I love Molly. Right now, we're just together for the sex and the companionship."

Audrey blushed at his crudeness, but Arthur's policy towards sex had always been one of complete honesty with his children.

"I just hope that you four can keep it between yourselves. I don't want the others knowing, they wouldn't understand," explained Arthur.

The gang of four loudly agreed to his request. Percy began pouring and the wives shuffled off to do something together. Possibly to get food so they didn't end with everyone face down on the floor.

"I'm sorry about interrupting you two. I am. Dad, can I tell Fred?" George quietly asked. "He won't tell anyone."

"Yes, you can tell your brother," Arthur gently agreed. "I hope he approves but he can't tell anyone either. Especially Sirius, he could never keep a secret."

"He will," was his son's easy answer.

Some might think it unhealthy that his son talked to his dead twin, but Arthur thought it healthier than just ignoring the wound.

"Here she is!" George crowed. "Good afternoon, Ms. Granger. It's so very nice of you to join us. My, you seem to be glowing."

* * *

She was terrified when she entered the room. How would George and the others react to her? Yet, Hermione couldn't leave Arthur to deal with his son alone. To her deep embarrassment, George immediately began to catcall, only stopping when his father softly asked him to cease.

Arthur walked to her and he grabbed her hand.

"Come sit by me," he asked. "We're having a bit of firewhiskey right now. I know you don't drink it, but perhaps a small splash in a cuppa might relax you."

He leaned towards her.

"A small bit shouldn't hurt either of you," he whispered. "Might settle your nerves."

Hermione nodded her head, and then Arthur escorted her to the couch where he sat next to her. Not too close, as though they were a couple, but close. His arm was resting behind her and he gave her a surreptitious wink.

"I just want to thank you, for your understanding," Arthur said as his toast. "Hermione and I weren't expecting this change in our relationship. It just happened between us, and I know I deeply worried about your reaction."

"Arthur, I'd suggest that you keep it between us," inserted Audrey. "I don't think the others would understand."

"We four, we visit Molly," Angelina explained. George flushed as he couldn't visit his mother, but no one gainsaid Angelina. Everyone knew that George had made a heroic effort to visit his mother. "We know how she is, how she's no longer the woman we loved."

That earned a brusque nod of Arthur's head.

"We still love her, Arthur, but she's no longer Molly," Audrey inserted. "You deserve some happiness, Arthur."

His only response was to quickly down his firewhiskey and emotionally retreat into himself. Hermione gently rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him.

"How about a refill?" Hermione asked.

* * *

Arthur had more firewhiskeys than his norm. He was never much of a drinker from what Hermione remembered, but today, he did have several in rapid succession. Normally, he was rather jovial but his smile was forced and he stared at his empty glass. His shoulders were also slumped as though he was completely knackered.

"I'm a little tired," he finally said. "The liquor has gone to my head as I didn't have much for lunch. I need to lie down. ALONE."

He glared at George who was struggling to look completely innocent.

"Walk me back?" Arthur asked Hermione. "I want to talk for a few minutes. George, don't give me that look."

Naturally, nobody believed George's protestations that he hadn't done anything.

Audrey clucked her disapproval. "Let me make you a tray," she insisted. "You need something to eat."

Arthur grimaced, wanting to make his escape. Hermione piped in that he should go to his room and she'd bring the tray to him.

* * *

"How long has he been acting odd?" Hermione softly asked. Arthur was acting a bit peculiar as he was so serious and reserved.

"Since he committed Mum. It got worse after he sold the Burrow. He's just gone all internal," Percy explained. "He only perks up when he's with his grandkids."

"Especially Fred and Molly," inserted Angelina. "He was rather chatty tonight. That's probably the most he's spoken in one sitting in a while."

"He doesn't play with his batteries and plugs anymore. Percy has even picked up a few Muggle engineering magazines for him, he doesn't even open them," explained Audrey.

George shook his head and then solemnly stated, "Take care with him, Hermione. He's in a bad way."

* * *

Arthur was in his jimjams and he was fluffing his pillow when Hermione arrived with his heavily laden tray.

"Merlin's beard, Audrey thinks she's feeding an army of ten," he protested. "Just put it on the dresser. I might have something later."

She did as instructed and then she nervously turned to face him.

"We need to talk, and not get waylaid by pleasant distractions," Arthur requested. "I know you're quite worried about the Great Inseminator's reaction. I think it falls under what is another baby when I've already had seven?"

Hermione flinched and Arthur nodded his head.

"I read your lists. They were quite informative, Hermione. They helped me understand why you did this and how you're currently feeling. I promise that I won't force you to have an abortion nor will I try for custody."

She wanted to die from embarrassment and Arthur sighed. They really needed to talk and NOT find themselves back in bed. Therefore, he wouldn't comfort with her a hug.

"I know you wanted this result. You spent a great deal of money and you deliberately chose Michael to father your child. As I said, I won't force you to abort and I certainly won't insist that you have this child our child. You want this; I won't stand in your way. But I will demand that I'm part of it. Your list was rather thorough but you completely left out the baby needing a father. Yes, I know you can raise this child by your own, but I want to help you."

"Do you want the baby? Really?" Hermione questioned.

Arthur sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "It's still too surreal for me to grasp. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Oh, Arthur," she whispered.

"Twenty four hours," Arthur reminded her. "Whatever your decision is, I will be there, every step of the way. I will hold your hand; I will do anything you want me to do, except I will not walk away."

He held out his arms and wiggled his fingers at her, silently offering a hug. She nodded her head and he tightly embraced her. To hell with his promise, Hermione needed a hug.

"It will be alright," he promised. "Because we're doing it together."

Arthur held her tightly in his arms. God, how he missed this. It wasn't just sexual touching that he missed, but everything. The feel of someone's hand on his, the emotional connection the talking. He craved conversation, not just sex.

"I wish I could turn back time," Hermione confessed.

"There's no turning back," he whispered. "It can never go back to the way it was between us."

It was the simple truth. Whether or not she had the baby, they could never go back to just being Arthur and Hermione. Not after making love, because he'd always look at her and remember the joy she had brought to a despairing man.

"I'm sorry," was Hermione's soft response.

"Don't apologize," pleaded Arthur. "My heart is already full of regrets. Any more misgivings and I fear it will break beyond repair. This has happened; I do not lament it because we can not change it. All I ask is that you, please, talk to me. Whatever decision you make, talk to me."

She said not a word.

"If it's easier for you to write it down rather than talk, that's fine," Arthur reassured her. "It'll be alright. Just as long as we do it together."

Merlin's scrote, he was repeating himself like Molly's old Celestina Warbeck record, "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love".

_ Oh, come and stir my cauldron, And if you do it right. And if you do it right. And if you do it right. And if you do it right. And if you do it right._

"I don't know what to do," admitted Hermione.

"Weigh the positives and the negatives. At least, you'll know what type of man fathered your child. For good, for bad, for worse. I hope that's a positive thing" Arthur's voice was shaky.

_A married man who made love to his daughter in law, and had also impregnated her._

"It is," she said. To his surprise, Hermione was still holding onto to him tightly. "I'm scared."

"Parenthood is very terrifying," he assured her. "There are a very few moments of joy interjected into decades of sheer terror."

"You're so calm about this," she confessed. "I feared you'd be angry."

_Angry with **myself**, but not with you. _

"You worry too much about my hypothetical anger," protested Arthur. "Let me repeat myself until you believe me. I am not angry about this. I am not angry about this. I am not angry about this. Tell me, do you want the baby?"

_ I'm bloody terrified, Hermione. I can't share that with you. Not even finding out Ginny was to be a girl worried me as much as this has. I must be strong for you, so I will. I just wish my heart would stop beating so wildly._

"I want it," she whispered. "I fear this is my only chance."

Arthur had known that would be her answer. He had known it with every ounce of his being.

_Time to remain calm. She needs you to be a rock right now._

"Then keep it," he tenderly suggested. "I'll be beside you every step of the way."

_ I am damned. How can I look at my family and tell them what I've done? Yet I can not look into her eyes and tell her **NO**_.

As though she had heard him, Hermione pulled away from him.

"What do we tell them?" an anxious Hermione asked.

_What will **I** tell them? _

"We don't tell them anything as it's still quite early. Right now, this is a very special time between you and me. Let's not share it with anyone else," Arthur suggested.

"Is it?" was her soft query.

He put his hand on her cheek and made her look into his eyes. Arthur wished to sound sincere, but what he was about to say reeked of desperation.

"Yes, this is very special time. You and I have created this baby. It's a miracle and I don't want to share this with anyone just yet," explained Arthur. "It's just the three of us now. You, me and . It"

"It?" Hermione asked. Her mouth was quirked in a half smile, the first smile he had seen from her in far too long.

"Yes, IT, as IT hasn't decided if it wishes to be a boy or a girl," Arthur stated. "Right now, it's very important that you take care of yourself. You don't need any stress. You need to rest"

"Yes, Arthur," Hermione promised.

Yes, there was a bit of cheek in her tone. Hermione was beginning to think positively about the situation and she was the one that needed to be optimistic. Arthur would have to be the realist, figure out how to pay for everything, what to say to his family, how to prevent Hermione from hearing the horrible comments that would be made about her being an unmarried, pregnant divorcee while Hermione would have pleasant day dreams of the child to be.

She deserved to be happy and he had given this gift to her. Now, he just had to protect them both.

"Don't be cheeky, Hermione. I worry about you two," Arthur explained. "And I will worry about you two. That's what the father's role in this is; I incessantly worry while you glow."

Again, Hermione grinned. This time it was a true ear to ear smile.

"I've always felt safe with you," she explained. Her smile faded and she looked uncertain, "May I stay the night? No sex, I just want you to hold me."

"We just need to take precautions," Arthur reminded her. "Molly and Lucy might barge in."

"Yes, and George," Hermione drolly commented.

"I think we traumatize him enough so he won't barge into my bedroom unannounced anymore," Arthur said. "Come on, let me hold you."

Hermione got into the bed while Arthur struggled to appear delighted.

* * *

He had savagely suppressed his desire for cuddling because there had been zero chance of obtaining it, but now, he was allowing himself to take advantage of the opportunity. Hermione, being a young woman, immediately thought the worst of him when he began playing with her hair. Really, Arthur couldn't control himself.

"No sex, Arthur, remember? The three of us need to rest," she gently chastised him.

"I'm just stroking your hair," he protested.

"PLEASE, I know it will just lead towards other things," was her retort. "You need to rest as you seem to have completely forgotten the fact that you just got out of St. Mungo's."

"Don't you like cuddling?" Arthur asked before he quoted, "'Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear. Your head like the golden-rod, and we will go sailing away from here to the beautiful land of Nod'. Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Your hair really isn't goldenrod, so it doesn't quite work. Your head like garden sod doesn't sound very complimentary. It's not really turf colored."

Hermione seemed startled and Arthur shook his head.

"Just because I'm father to Fred and George Weasley, it doesn't mean that my liking for poetry is limited to 'There was a young warlock from Kent'," protested an indignant Arthur. "And yes, I do like to cuddle. I'm rather sorry that you don't."

"I've never met any man that was content just to cuddle," explained a blushing Hermione. "Usually, it was just a not very smooth attempt at getting into my panties."

"I liked cuddling with Molly. It didn't automatically lead to us making love," was his instinctive protest. Bugger, bugger, bugger, he had to mention his wife! To Hermione! Bugger. Bugger. BUGGER!

He closed his eyes and winced, while mentally, he savagely chastised himself for being a daft prat.

"You can talk about Molly," Hermione protested. "I love her too, you know."

"At the end of the day, we'd snuggle," he explained. "Thought I made a lovely pillow."

"You do," Hermione easily agreed.

"Soft and squishy, that's me," Arthur quipped in a feeble attempt to brighten the mood. "Wonderful for cuddling."

"No, you're nice and firm," protested Hermione. "I imagine that she felt quite protected when you cuddled, what with your arm around her. What else did you do?"

"We'd talk about our day, our hopes and fears, what ever came to mind. It was a tradition for us, as with seven children it was difficult to get any time alone. We'd go to bed right after the children did, as it was our time. I just got used to playing with her hair and rubbing her back while we talked. I find that I quite miss it," admitted Arthur.

How bloody prosaic. He couldn't hope to express to Hermione how much that he had cherished that emotional intimacy without sounding like a complete sod.

"Arthur, this has been so bloody horrific for you," was Hermione's surprising response.

All he could do was nod his head in silent agreement. He had trudged along these last few months, wearily putting one foot down after another and he seemed to have gotten lost along the way.

* * *

The next few months passed surprisingly quickly. Arthur moved back into his flat after a few long weeks with Percy, though his calendar was still full of the various Weasleys events. To her surprise, Hermione had a standing invitation to join Arthur whenever he visited Percy and George, so she usually tagged along. The various children were back at Hogwarts after the winter break, so it was just the adults for meals. She and Arthur visited every day, and sometimes he'd stay the night at her place. Other times, she'd go to his flat. On those days, Hermione rarely stayed in his flat until morning. The flat was too much MOLLY for her to feel comfortable in it. Yes, Arthur had put away the various photos, struggled to make her feel welcome, but Hermione was haunted by Molly's presence.

Especially in the bedroom.

To her deep embarrassment, her crush on Arthur grew by leaps and bounds. Arthur was just so well trained. He was a very good cook, for one thing. That tidbit had been surprising as Molly had been such a domestic goddess that Hermione had automatically dismissed Arthur as culinary clueless. No, he made a wicked Sunday roast.

Points were also given when a thoughtful Arthur brought her a tin of ginger tea before she reached the nauseous stage. His next considerate present was a container of assorted creams to rub on her body to prevent itching and stretch marks. He had promised to be there for her and he was doing everything he could to fulfill that promise. Arthur had even squired her to midwife for her first antenatal exam since Hermione desired to use Muggle medicine for her baby. Made a bit of nuisance out of himself as he insisted on holding her hand during the exam, and he had refused to step out of the room when the midwife had asked her all sorts of personal questions. His retort was that he knew she had a life long before him and nothing she could have ever done then would upset him, so he was bloody staying.

The midwife softly assured Hermione that Arthur was a keeper. Well, she bloody well knew that.

And the sex? Sorry, **_lovemaking_**, as Arthur preferred that term.

Got better and better. Oh good God, did it get better. He was unbelievably sweet and patient with her sexual tentativeness. Arthur didn't mind holding her hand and talking her through her insecurities. They made love several times a week, and Hermione knew she was bloody glowing from happiness. Her departmental secretary had commented about the need to meet Hermione's new man to see if he was the proper sort.

It wasn't perfect between them, not by a long shot. Arthur was a bit unnerving as he was just so bloody introverted, a far cry from his normally gregarious nature. He also wasn't distracted by the various Muggle technologies that used to formerly fascinate him. Sometimes, he'd play with a plug, but more out of habit as opposed to a desire to learn about it. When they went to the midwife, they had used the lift and he had just clasped her hand. No crazy comments about escapators or lifters or anything.

And sometimes, he'd just emotionally shutdown in order to recharge his batteries. She believed that those where the days when Molly was especially bad and he needed time to process everything. Today was one such day, and Arthur was in the worst state she had yet witnessed. Arthur had been completely mute when he arrived on her doorstep. He hadn't even managed to pull a smile together for her when she had greeted him. No, instead Arthur had handed her a large bouquet of wild flowers.

"Let's cuddle," Hermione suggested.

She had to pull him towards the bedroom and then get him out of his mac.

They spooned for a bit, Arthur holding her tightly against his long frame, and then after far too long, Arthur softly sighed. He pulled her still closer to him and he began stroking her skin. He was still silent, but his hands were gentle and kind. Cuddle Therapy was what Hermione called it when Arthur got like this. Arthur had Skin Hunger Hermione had realized early on, where he craved physical closeness, especially when he was stressed. He continued to touch her, needing the bodily contact to center his soul, and then he stopped.

"Maternity clothes?" Arthur asked. His hand had slipped beneath her elastic waistband. "Already?"

"Yes," was all she said.

"When?" That was his next question.

"Only my third day," Hermione explained. "My trousers were getting a bit tight."

Who the hell was she kidding? She could have made do for another few weeks.

"You didn't tell me," he protested. Arthur sat up and began rummaging through his pockets. "I wanted to give this to you before you reached this stage."

He gave her a small box.

"It's not much, I'm afraid, but I thought ," explained Arthur.

She opened the box and found a small yet intricate wooden ring. There was also a delicate chain in the box.

"A ring?" Hermione asked.

"It's a physical sign of my pledge to you and our baby," Arthur explained. "See, there are two threads of vine wood and one of cherry as there are three of us now. Your wand is made of vine wood and mine is made of cherry. The vine wood, that being you, entwines itself around the band of cherry, that being me. I put the conception date on the inside of it. The chain is in case your finger swells, so you can still wear it."

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Really, what could she say to this? It was such a sweet gesture.

Arthur struggled to smile and then he just went completely inward.

Oh **_bugger_**, Arthur wasn't sure of her reaction.

"If you don't wish to wear it, I understand," Arthur said. "Just a spur of the moment idea of mine. No harm done if you don't like it."

He took the box back and gave her a faux smile.

In response, she held out her right hand and wiggled her fingers at him.

"Aren't you going to put it on, Arthur?" Hermione demanded.

The ring slipped easily onto her finger and then Arthur spoke, "I vow that I will treat you with respect and caring. I will be understanding of your wishes and desires, and respect your integrity, your intelligence and intentions. I shall support your dreams and goals. Where there are troubles, I will stand with you. I bring to you a deeply flawed man, who struggles to be the best man he can be, to honor all my commitments. I will do my best by you, Hermione. I swear this is so by my name and my soul."

The ring warmed slightly then and Arthur gently kissed it.

"I vow," Hermione began. Arthur placed his hand over her mouth to silence her.

"I needed to make that pledge and Bind it. You don't," insisted Arthur. "You've been badly hurt by someone who didn't honor his pledge to you. I swear to you that I will."

"You can't have a one-sided commitment vow," protested Hermione. "It'll be lopsided."

"Hermione, you're busy growing your commitment to me. I don't need a vow or pledge from you. Just talk to me, that's all I ask," Arthur requested. "I would have liked to know that you were growing into maternity clothes."

"I just figured this was humdrum to you," Hermione explained. Really, it must be. Molly had been pregnant six times. Surely maternity clothes weren't that bit a deal after that many children?

"It's new to you and therefore, it's new to us," Arthur insisted. "Plus, this? It never gets old."

"I promise," Hermione began. She would have said a great deal more but Arthur silenced her with a kiss.

* * *

He had spent far too much on the ring, but Hermione required something tangible of his commitment to her. A physical reminder to assuage her doubts that she was unsuccessfully trying to hide from him. Merlin's bloody staff, he was juggling all these balls in the air, trying to be everything to everyone and he was exhausted.

Hermione snuggled close to him and gave him a very sleepy smile. "Wonderful," she purred.

In response, he began rubbing her back and she languidly stretched.

"Feels so nice," Hermione murmured.

Yes, she was almost asleep, which was a very good thing. Arthur needed a few minutes to process everything he needed to do.

More ginger tea for Hermione. She had developed a fondness for it and he should get her some. What else did Molly like when she was three months along? Physical affection and Arthur was doing his best with that. With a sudden burst of inspiration, he remembered how Molly had craved Muggle sweets that were sour or tart tasting. Tomorrow, ginger tea and he'd pick up a few sours jellies.

He had to do these little things as Hermione craved reassurance that he'd be there for her. Sometimes, she'd look at him, obviously wondering when his strained nerves would shatter and he'd do a runner. Those were the days that he'd struggled harder to smile, to make a proper conversation with her, to be there for her in any way he could. And yes, those were the nights he took her to bed and endeavored to wear her out. Maybe, just maybe, she'd feel something reassuring in his touch.

If a tin of ginger tea made her happy, then he'd get her two tins. If she liked tart sweets, he'd buy her a bloody jar. Bloody hell, he'd buy her four! If she required physical reassurance, he'd love her as often as his aging body would permit. If his body wouldn't cooperate, well, he knew enough tricks to ensure that she'd be asleep with a blissful smile on her face.

Tomorrow, ginger tea, sour candies and that cream for stretch marks that Molly swore by. Little gestures were very important, especially if you were industriously looking for reassurance.

Oh bloody hell; he hadn't used the word love once in his commitment vow. Working on that damn vow for three bloody days and he muffed it up! Not that he had used that word in his much rehearsed vow, but he found nicer words to express himself.

_ I deeply care for you. I cherish the child within you, the child that you and I have made._

It was the truth but yet he bloody buggered it up and didn't say it. No, he had said that he's try to treat her well. He'd ruddy **_respect_** her. He'd be fucking **_understanding_**. Oh, bloody hell.

Hermione was in maternity clothes already, which had deeply rattled him. He thought he had more time before her physical changes manifested. The clock was ticking, her belly swelling. He needed time to figure out how to tell his family. Sometimes at night, he'd stay awake, thinking of the proper way to say, 'I sexed your ex-wife, Ron, and knocked her up'.

Least today, he had brought Hermione flowers. That would count for something, wouldn't it? Especially since he had been damn close to a complete mental snap.

Today had been an absolutely horrible day. Sarah, Roger's wife, had located him in his office at Ministry. She was a tall, lanky brunette, close to his age. Attractive, he supposed, if you were partial to that type. Not that Arthur was, as he preferred curvy, ginger haired girls.

Sarah had come straight to the point.

"I'm the other woman in Roger's life," she had brusquely introduced herself. "Unfortunately, he doesn't remember that. I have a problem and I'm not sure if you're willing to help me."

"Tell me what the problem is, and I'll see," had been his diplomatic answer.

The new director at St. Dympna's ward was not happy with the lovebirds and had separated them. Roger was now in another ward and Sarah thought Arthur might want to see how Molly was dealing with it. Sarah warned him that Roger was not handling the separation well, and she feared the same for Molly.

"I don't understand what the problem is," Sarah explained. "Yes, they snogged a few times."

"More than a few," Arthur quipped.

"Do you have a problem with it?" Sarah nervously asked. "I didn't even think that you might as the Mediwitches said that you hadn't protested their relationship."

"She's happy, isn't that what is important?" had been Arthur's answer. "And I believe that Roger is also."

A bond born of mutual misery had been forged then, between the two spouses forgotten by their loved ones.

"Yes, that was my viewpoint. I love Roger and I want him happy. Even if he doesn't remember me," Sarah insisted. "Before I start raising the roof, I wanted to know if you'll help me. For what it's worth, Roger was is a wonderful man. The illness hasn't changed that in him. I can understand why Molly has fallen for him. I did, after all."

He just nodded his head once and Sarah patted him on his hand. To his horror, he nearly came completely undone then with that little bit of unexpected compassion.

"I'll go check on Molly, you start raising the roof. We'll meet here tomorrow at two, so we can continue discussing this."

As he feared, Molly had been shattered by Roger's disappearance. He had spent two hours struggling to calm her, and at last, at his wit's end, he agreed to let them sedate his wife. Arthur had helped her back to her bed, and she had thanked him for being nice to her. Then his Mollywobbles had shattered his heart by asking him if he could find her Roger.

He had vowed that he would and for one beautiful moment, Molly's face had lit up. Like it used to do for him, except it was for another man.

Didn't know what happened after he left the Ward. He came back to himself a few hours later, clutching a large bouquet of flowers, standing on Hermione's doorstep. Had he knocked?

He must have, as she had opened the door.

He was in freefall, and this woman in his arms needed him to get his bloody act together right quick.

For love of God and magic, he shouldn't be making love to Hermione. Should have nipped it in the bud after the first time. It was a mistake and he was compounding his error in judgment with interest each and every time he made love to her.

But it was the only time he felt whole.

Was it truly that bad? He had a moment's ease from his ever present pain and Hermione truly seemed delightedwith their lovemaking. Not that she had a great deal of experience, after all. Just two generations of Weasley penises to compare.

He couldn't really deal with that thought, not right now, not ever, so Arthur struggled to find something else to focus upon.

Galleons. He needed to find a way for Hermione to take his Galleons. With her pregnancy, she needed money for new clothes, for doctor's visits, for vitamins among other things. Yes, she made more than he ever would dream of making, but he would support her, somehow.

Hermione wouldn't take it, telling him that all she needed was his emotional support.

Bloody hell, he couldn't even scrape together enough coin to get her a proper commitment ring. Molly's care was so bloody expensive, and he budgeted himself down to the very last knut that month. Gold was traditional but he had foolishly looked at the platinum rings. He couldn't afford a platinum ring, unless he was bloody George. No, instead he gave Hermione a WOODEN ring. It had been a plain cherry ring and he had Charmed the vine wood into the braid pattern.

What did she need? What could he do for her? Small things, that's all he could do. But enough small things could build into something medium sized, and enough medium sized could turn into large and she'd be reassured and happy and Bloody hell, what to do now? Supper.

He could make supper for them. A proper, healthy supper.

What could he make? Perhaps, he could think of something a little tart for afters. Happily, Hermione was deeply asleep as she slept through his efforts to disentangle the two of them. That done, he sat on the edge of the bed, and gave himself a rousing pep talk.

_One foot on the ground, boyo! Then the next! There are people needing to be fed! Things that need doing! Up and at them, boyo! One step at a time! _


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Bookends 4  
**Author:**  
**Prompt Number:** 194  
**Rating:** M - cursing  
**Main Pairing:** Hermione/Arthur  
**Secondary Pairings:** BW/FW, CW/Dragons, PW/AW, GW/AW, RW/HG, GW/HP, HP/RW  
**Summary:** There's a new Weasley on the way! Arthur's the dad and Hermione's the mum! How do the Weasleys react?  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.  
**Warnings/Kinks:** Prat!Ron  
**Word Count:** ~46,500 words. So wish I was kidding.  
**Summary:** Arthur and Hermione talk.  
**Author's Notes:** Thanks to my Betas, the letters J, K & L.  
_Time it was and what a time it was it was,  
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.  
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph  
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you._

_ Bookends_ by Simon and Garfunkel

* * *

Hermione woke and realized that Arthur wasn't in the bed with her. No, instead she smelled dinner, which meant that he had decided to cook for them.

"Your Da's spoiling us," she said to her belly. "First it was getting us ginger tea to help settle us, now it's dinner. We're so lucky to have him."

Quickly, she got dressed, mentally chuckling over Arthur's insistence on folding her clothes nicely and placing them on a chair. Hermione remembered them ending up in a pile on the floor rather early on, so Arthur was being Arthur. He had even made sure that they were Charmed Wrinkle free.

He was setting the table when she came into the kitchen and she hoped that she wasn't blushing. Arthur was just so Arthur, calm, dependable and reliable. Well, except in bed as he was so bloody creative. If it wasn't for Arthur and his unwavering, rock solid support, she'd be so terribly frightened, to be pregnant and alone. How the hell did she think she could have managed this on her own? How bloody naive she had been! With Arthur and his caring assistance, she could focus completely on their baby.

Yes, sometimes he went all inward on her, but it just proved how deep he was. He wasn't a shallow, fickle boy. Far too many people underestimated Arthur because they didn't realize how deep his waters ran. She was so blessed to have him, as would Ron have thought to bring her Ginger Tea? Never! Would Viktor have made her dinner so she could sleep a little longer? No!

Deciding an ambush was in order, Hermione impulsively hugged him. In response, he gave her a quick buzz on the top of her head. Really, how had Hermione failed to notice over the years that Arthur was the perfect size for hugging? Tall enough so she felt secure and safe, but not Hagrid size, where she'd have to worry about being squashed. Even better, was the fact that he was wearing British Sterling Silver, as the smell made her feel safe.

It was amazing how deeply Hermione had fallen in love with him.

Hopefully, she wasn't wearing an idiotic grin when she stopped hugging and looked up at him.

"Something smells delicious," she informed him. "Are you doing better? You seemed rather distressed this afternoon."

He silently nodded and she embraced him once again.

"Anything to do with this?" she softly asked.

"No," was his answer.

"I'm glad. You've been an absolute brick during this. I was just telling IT that I couldn't do this without you," Hermione said.

"IT," Arthur protested. "Deserves a better name."

"IT is still lilac," Hermione explained. "IT hasn't made up its mind if it wants to be a boy or a girl."

"That spell is so bloody unreliable. First part works like a Charm, and the second half is buggy. Least there aren't any more happy faces appearing. Anyway, you and IT need to eat," was Arthur's stern response. "You're looking a little washed out."

She turned somber. "Arthur?"

Hermione couldn't bring herself to ask The Question, but it had been eating away at her for some time.

"Not just yet, we'll tell them in another month or so?" Arthur requested. "We don't really need to them just yet."

Hermione felt the slightest tremor of unease. Something was obviously bothering Arthur and she feared she knew the two reasons for his discomfort.

"Hermione," Arthur said. He made her look at him and his blue eyes were intense. "I care for you, deeply. I do! And I cherish the child that we've created. Never doubt me, please. You're barely twelve weeks along, dear. You're not having the baby tomorrow. However, you do need something to eat. And if you eat everything on your plate, I made an apple and rhubarb crumble."

Hermione smiled in delight. "How did you know that I wanted something a wee bit tart?"

"It's what you had in your icebox," explained Arthur.

"I didn't have rhubarb," protested Hermione.

"Wonder how it got there then," was his glib response. "I opened the drawer and there it was."

He really deserved another hug, Hermione decided.

* * *

Arthur Weasley was being ripped in two. Hermione needed him and Molly was requiring his assistance. It was getting more and more exhausting to juggle the two, but what where his choices? Really? Damn Dafydd Lllewelyn. If it wasn't for him, Arthur might have a chance to catch his breath! Damn the ward administrator for his obstinate and contrary nature. He still insisted on keeping Roger and Molly separated because they weren't acting proper. Who bloody cared if they snogged? And if they shagged? Who cared! After Ginny, Molly had decided that she would be having no more children and had handled the situation.

He had offered to have a vasectomy as Molly had endured so bloody much being pregnant, but she had refused. Bloody hell, why hadn't he insisted on it? Because he was a bloody prat who had been content to let Molly make the final decisions regarding their family.

No, no, Molly had decided that he needed to keep his equipment functional.

What if something happens to me and your new, young pretty wishes to have babies with you? No, no, he shouldn't think about that conversation and how he had glibly promised Molly that he would be forever faithful. What a bloody, bloody fool Arthur had been! He should have remembered that promise before he bedded Annie.

What mattered to Arthur was that Molly was deteriorating, as she was refusing to eat and Roger wasn't doing much better. Arthur and Sarah were struggling to find a way to get their spouses together. Because they were both involved in their noble cause, they were spending far too much time together in each other's company, as Perkins had mentioned to him how good he and Sarah looked together.

He wasn't interested in Sarah. Pleasant girl, but she still loved Roger.

On the nights he slept alone, it wasn't Sarah that he wished was beside him. In the fuzzy grey of early morning, his hand wasn't instinctively reaching for Sarah. But he couldn't have told anyone, especially himself, if his questing hand was looking for Molly or Hermione.

Hermione.

He didn't love her, not with the wild, all encompassing passion with which he loved Molly. Merlin knew he still bore the scars from Apollyon Pringle because his overwhelming zeal. However, he was feeling something toward Hermione.

Protective, and not in a fatherly way. Especially, now that Hermione was becoming deliciously curvy and plump. Sometimes, he'd just watch her when she was daydreaming. Merlin's beard how he loved the faraway look in her eyes when she was thinking about their baby.

He was a lonely, silly berk who was becoming too fond of Hermione. Right now, he needed to be responsible, to be an adult. Hermione was heavily leaning on him, which was natural considering the circumstances. Someone, who didn't care for her as much as he did, might choose to take advantage of her. They were good friends with excellent benefits, as Teddy might say, and friendship it would remain.

Once or twice, before his battles with Dafydd, he would 'accidentally' bump into her at the Ministry. He didn't grope her, but a simple touch of her hand was enough to settle his jangling nerves so he could fight the good fight.

* * *

Arthur was very reserved these days, Hermione noticed. He had canceled a few command performances with his various children claiming that he just wasn't up to dealing with them. She had decided that the reason for his reticence was Molly-related and she had broached the subject with him. Naturally, Arthur just turned the subject back towards her. Didn't she enjoy spending more time together? And more importantly, was she feeling well? Was her back bothering her? Did she require more Ginger Tea? Or he'd distract her by kissing her. His concern about her, while quite nice, was an effective smoke screen at hiding his true feelings.

Finally, she had enough.

"Arthur, please, tell me, how's Molly?"

His smile faded from his face. At last, he finally answered her with a soft, "As well as can be expected, considering her diagnosis and her condition." And with that, Arthur completely shut down. He didn't say another word all evening, and he moved the food around on his plate to make it look as though he had eaten something. After a few painful hours where she made all the conversation, he dutifully kissed her on the cheek and attempted to make his escape.

Hermione beat him to the door and barred the door with her body.

"Stay?" Hermione asked. "Please? I'd like you to stay tonight."

For a few minutes, Hermione believed that Arthur would leave, but then he nodded his head once.

"Tired," he finally said. "Just unbelievably tired. I don't even think the knacker's yard would accept me."

"Go to bed," demanded Hermione. "I'll join you shortly."

That night, she gathered her courage and undressed in front of him. It was silly, it wasn't as though Arthur hadn't seen her naked before. She was fourteen weeks along after all, and that hadn't occurred while she was dressed. Yet, Hermione was still a bit body shy and Arthur habitually initiated everything. It was hard to believe that as she was a more than willing participant in their nocturnal exercises, but she lacked the sexual self-confidence to pounce. Arthur knew about her body insecurities and had struggled to dissuade her numerous times. Despite his gentle encouragement, nonetheless Hermione obsessed about her supposed failings. Ron had gone over them in great detail, greatly augmenting her nature insecurities about her small breasts and her lack of womanly curves.

A pensive Arthur watched her as she nervously undressed, and said not a word. Instead, when she reached the second button on her blouse, he held out his hand to her, kindly offering to take the lead. Arthur had realized early on that it was easier for her if HE undressed her rather than Hermione undressing in front of him.

"Tonight, I'd like to," Hermione said. To her horror, she was blushing and Arthur's tired smile was quite crooked.

"Annie, what a lovely treat," was his soft answer.

Yes, this was a treat, Hermione reminded herself. A present for her Arthur as he was always focused on her needs, her desires, her, _her_, _**her**_, whenever they made love. Tonight, this would be for him, she vowed as she slowly unfastened yet another button.

* * *

"Merlin's beard, Annie! I feared that you were trying to kill me," Arthur murmured. He was smiling, so he was just teasing her. If his smile wasn't a dead giveaway, then the fact Arthur was using her petname meant that he was in a good mood. As well as he should be, as Hermione had memorized Witches Weekly's How to Seduce your Wizard special insert.

"I wanted tonight to be especially good for you," she softly explained. She began playing with his beard as she quite liked the feeling of it against her fingers.

"Don't pressure yourself," protested Arthur. His calloused hand was rubbing her neck and shoulders and it felt wonderful. "It's always good for me. Actually, it's so far beyond good, that I'm getting spoiled. You're bloody brilliant, Annie."

Naturally, she had to open her mouth to explain, and he shook his head.

"Ah, I know Michael hasn't been rather chatty lately. I gave him a stern what for and he assured me that you're the reason why he's still functioning. He doesn't say it enough, he knows, but he'll try harder," Arthur's voice slowed and then broke. "Without you, Michael fears no I know I"

"Arthur, I did not mean to upset you," she assured him.

"It's not that it'sI need this, whatever this odd thing is between us. Not just the physical touching and the lovemaking, as lovely as they are, but the conversation keeps me sane. I like to hear you talk. Tonight, I was quite content to listen. I can't stand being in my flat by myself as it's too bloody quiet. I was talking to the damn cat until I realized that Jasper isn't much of a conversationalist."

"You have your family," Hermione reminded him.

"They've got their lives. Too busy to focus on an old man like me. I'm suitable for being trotted out for family functions. There's dear old Grandpeer! Be a dear and go play with old man and his batteries as he's feeling gloomy," Arthur drolly announced.

"Arthur," Hermione protested. "Don't be daft. They love you."

"I suppose they do. But the past year or so, they put me on the shelf unless they wanted me to watch my grandkids for a spell. Speaking of which, I hope Victorie and Teddy are being careful when they're sneaking around. To have a child the same age as my great-grandchild would be bizarre."

His smile faded, and he apologized. "Shouldn't have mentioned him. I'm sorry."

"I don't have a problem with Teddy," Hermione protested. "I see Dora and Remus in him."

Arthur nodded his head once and then he whispered, "Two weeks. Then we tell them. Are you comfortable with that?"

She nodded her head.

"No one has noticed anything?" Arthur questioned. "We've Camouflaged your little belly and your sweet though increasing curves."

"My secretary remarks on how happy I am," Hermione confided.

_Actually, she is of the firm opinion that I'm in love. She frequently comments on it. Sharp-eyed Suzie immediately noticed the commitment ring and realized that it was made of the same type of wood as my wand. She checks for anyone bearing a wand made of cherry wood that stops by my office. Suzie doesn't realize that you won't visit as there's no real reason for you to do so. No, we just have our 'accidental' meetings at the Ministry._

"And are you, Annie?" Arthur asked. His tone was quite grave.

"Yes." That was her simple answer. Really, Arthur deserved a better answer than just 'Yes'. "I'm unbelievably happy."

"I'm so glad, Hermione," Arthur said. "Now, you need to get some sleep."

* * *

Hermione had wrapped herself around him and was now deeply asleep.

_She's happy. Thank Merlin. She's happy._

_Tomorrow. Tomorrow, Sarah and I have our final grievance at St. Mungo's with their bloody director. When that's resolved tomorrow, for better or for worse, I will sit with my family and tell them about Hermione. And the baby. I will speak to Percy, George and their wives first, because I might get some support from them. They know about the relationship at least so perhaps a baby won't be a complete shock._

_Oh bloody hell, Percy will faint due to the impropriety of it all and George will have another meltdown. I'm almost sixty-six years old, and I fathered a child with my former daughter-in-law who is only thirty years younger._

_Yes, it's better for her if she's not there. I know I told her that we'd do it together, but I want to protect her. They're sure to be quite vocal and she's in a delicate condition._

_Snort._

_Ok, the truth is I fear that she might decide to Hex Ron and Harry if they make any rude comments._

_And what if they ask me if I love her? What do I say?_

_Perhaps? I'm not really sure? It's more than just frequent shagging, but I'm not sure beyond that. I am happy when she's near. Would an answer of 'we both make each other happy' be enough? Can't honest friendship be enough for staying together while our child grows?_

_My Mollywobbles was the love of my live and Annie, Annie's bright light has chased the darkness from my heart. It's still there, but it's not so all encompassing when she's near._

* * *

Percy Weasley stopped in at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes before work. George was acting managerial and directing assorted wizards and witches in their various jobs for the day. That stopped once he saw Percy.

"Perce!" George crowed. "What do I owe this truly unexpected honor? Someone giving you a problem at work? Do you need some dragon dung? Got a whole fresh case!"

Percy shot his brother a withering look, which bounced and shattered off George's irrepressible nature.

"It's Dad," Percy hissed.

George stopped misbehaving and immediately settled down.

"Does he need money? Angelina? You mind doing a run to Gingrotts? I'm meeting a distributor in a little bit, so I can't do it," George explained. He quickly wrote up a note and then paused. "How much?"

"No, I don't think Dad needs money," Percy explained. "Can we talk in private?"

"Sure, my office," George said. "Mind if Angelina joins us?"

Percy would much rather have keep the matter private between his brother and him, but he agreed.

* * *

"Is it safe?" Percy tentatively asked in reference to the proffered chair.

"I'm your brother, don't you trust me?" a hurt George protested.

"Not at all," Percy easily answered. "Especially when I'm in your territory."

Angelina softly giggled. "Got you dead to rights, George. Debug the chair."

"It's Dad, he's got the meeting at St. Mungo's today," Percy explained after he gingerly sat in the chair.

"Which I'm not supposed to know about," George inserted. "Glad to see that you're getting in touch with your inner Weasley at your advanced age."

"Dad's just worried that some people might not understand why a husband is trying so hard to help his wife have a boyfriend," explained Angelina. "I find it rather bittersweet that Arthur loves Molly so much that he wants her to be happy."

"It just seems odd that Dad is calling us together for a meeting and then having a Weasley Family Conference after it," said Percy.

"He just wants to be sure of our approval before he tells the rest of our family about Mom's new beau," was George's ready answer.

"Dad doesn't know that I told you about Roger," explained Percy.

"We both know how mom is, and you three visit her regularly," George said.

"It's not that," Angelina inserted. Really, her husband was quite obtuse. "He's been seeing Hermione for roughly four months now. There is the possibility that he wants to tell the rest of your family about her. He's meeting with the four of us to ensure that we will be there to support him. You know Ron's going to bloody calve on the spot."

"Harry's invited to the meeting also," Percy mentioned. "Teddy also."

"He's not a real Weasley," George growled. "He's Harry's godson."

"Ginny all but adopted him when she and Harry married," Angelina inserted. "The only reason she didn't was because of Andromeda. Mom and Dad accepted Teddy as a grandchild and treated him as one."

"It's a full Weasley family meeting. The last one we had was when he told us he was committing Molly to St. Dympna. You remember how well THAT one went," Percy reminded his brother.

"Charlie was rather rude, even for Charles," George admitted. "Thought Dad should have found a better solution. Easy for him to preach, he was in bloody Romania when it all went down. He didn't see Mom screaming blue murder about Dad molesting her."

"A fist fight broke out," Angelina reminded the two Weasleys. "Bill punched out Charlie. Ron and Ginny got in a big row. I seem to remember someone setting Harry's shoes on fire."

"Percy," George tsk'd tsk'd. "I hope you're ashamed of that. Simply shameful. They were nice pair of dragon hide shoes."

"He said it was just causal between them. That it was just sex," protested Percy, who had never denied setting Harry's shoes on fire.

"Oy! I'm still traumatized!" inserted George. "Must you remind me?"

"Can we get back to the point here? I see the way Dad looks at Hermione," Angelina explained over George's loud noises. "Sometimes when he's helping me with the dishes, Dad just stops and watches her. He smiles then, George. Smiles. When is the last time Dad grins just because he was happy? And I hate to inform you, Hermione is quite smitten with your father. Don't you see the way they sit together on the couch? They're gotten quite comfortable with each other. Their knees touch and Arthur always rests his arm behind her on the couch. I've seen him rubbing her neck while trying to be completely circumspect"

"Dad, you dog," George quipped.

"Your father is a decent man, George. I'm sure he treats her very, very well and considering Ron, I'm sure she's enjoying being in a relationship with your father," Angelina said. "Your dad's very lonely without your mother and Hermione is coming off a rough experience. They're gotten quite close and they no longer wish to hide their relationship. Why the bloody hell should they? Hermione's divorced and your parents' marriage is in name only."

"Please don't tell me you think that they're engaged," Percy said.

"What's the problem if they are?" was Angelina's response. She shrugged her shoulders. "Your mother has found a new boyfriend, why can't your father be happy?"

"I know Hermione wanted children, but Ron didn't. Audrey told me that after they split. But seriously, they can't be engaged!" Percy blurted.

"Why not?" Angelina asked.

"Can you really see Dad starting a second family with Hermione?" Percy asked.

The three Weasleys looked at each and then both men looked at Angelina. She had a considering look on her face.

"Would you?" The boys asked in unison, sounding almost like the Fred and George of old.

"Start a family with your father?" Angelina asked. "If I was Hermione, having experienced Ron first hand for almost ten years." She merrily chortled.

"And well, your dad's well trained. Picks up after himself; helps with the dishes, adored your mum. Hermione wants children." She pondered the thought for a long moment before she smiled brightly and then loudly announced, "Bloody hell yes, I would shag Arthur and jolly well enjoy it. And if there were babies resulting from an excessive amount of shagging? So much the better! Arthur knows how to change nappies! And he does it fearlessly! And without gagging noises!"

The two Weasley brothers stared at Angelina in stunned silence.

"Come on, Arthur is really very sweet. And, well, kinda cute. In an old man sorta way. He's got a lovely smile." Angelina whispered that and then swallowed as though realizing that feeling that way about your father-in-law was taboo. "I'm just guessing that he still has it. I mean, Hermione is absolutely smitten with him and she glows whenever she looks at him. And Dad's got a bit more spring in his step these days. You can tell that they're regularly shagging because they're relaxed with each other. He plays with her hair when they sit next to each other. She puts her hand on his knee and."

"Please, stop," George pleaded. "Just stop. You know, that's my father you're talking about"

Mrs. George Weasley rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you're taking this so badly. I would think that you'd be delighted to know that your father still has it at his age. I mean, which one of your parents used to quiz you on contraceptive spells each and every time you left for Hogwarts? It wasn't your Mum. How many galleons did you and Fred earn by being the only students at Hogwarts that knew THOSE spells?"

"No, stop," George pleaded. "You win."

"Mmmmm what I have to look forward to in a few years," Angelina said with a saucy leer. Then there was a long pause before she energetically fanned herself. "Shall I invite Dad over for a night cap and afters tonight?"

George swallowed and then Angelina laughed.

"Gotcha, love!" Angelina giggled.

* * *

Sarah greeted Arthur warmly and they sat next to each other in the hallway, waiting for their appointment with the director of St. Mungo's. "It will work this time," she said. She squeezed his hand and Arthur nodded.

A secretary rushed out of the Director's office and tersely informed them that their meeting had been delayed for a short spell. Just make yourselves comfortable was his response to their questions of how long they had to wait.

"Arthur," Sarah asked. "May I ask you a rather personal question?"

"Yes," he easily agreed.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Her voice was quite soft and she was staring at the floor.

They were friends, but was she thinking of pursuing something more? "Sarah, are you?" Arthur paused and he knew he was blushing.

She looked at him, realized how her question had been phrased and her face turned white.

"Oh good God, no, Arthur. I'm not propositioning you. That would be **_icky_**," Sarah protested.

Well, while he was happy that she's wasn't about to ask him for a date, she didn't have to declare it as icky.

"It's just that I've known this nice fellow for quite some time. He knows about Roger and everything. He asked me if I'd like to go out on a date. I found myself_ flattered_ by his offer." She swallowed once and then blushed. "It's been so very long since I've been on a date. Naturally, I turned Peter down. Horrible cause of the jitters and all that."

"I was just wondering, since you and I are in the same dilemma, if you ever went out on a date. You seem like quite the catch. I'm sure you have women lining up for you, plus a few blokes," Sarah teased before she turned sober. "Some of the people in the support group don't understand. That whole 'til death to you part business. But isn't Roger dead? Really? His personality is gone."

She was asking for reassurance, for permission from anyone to move on from the holding pattern her life was in. A few months ago, Arthur would not have been able to give her what she needed, not until an emotionally scarred woman had taken a chance on him.

"Yes, I'm seeing a lovely lady," admitted Arthur. "Rather scandalous as she's quite younger than I am."

"Doesn't matter, does she make you happy, Arthur?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," he admitted. "I had forgotten what it was like to be happy. I haven't told a lot of people because I'm not sure how they'd react. She understands about Molly though I haven't told her everything."

"Arthur, I'm so pleased for you. What can you tell me about her?" Sarah asked. "How serious are you two?"

"We're quite serious as well; there's to be a baby." There, he had admitted it. A trifle bit oddly yes, but still he had admitted to someone that he was to a father. Again. In that moment, the child somehow became real then. Realer than the small swell that Hermione prided herself upon. Realer than the lilac happy face that still doggedly showed up each time he did the spell.

A baby, bloody hell. And him being close to three score and ten.

"Oh Arthur!" Sarah blurted and to his surprise, she was hugging him. "Congratulations! A baby, you must be so happy!"

"It's rather bizarre, considering how old I am, but she's over the bloody moon about it. I find her enthusiasm quite endearing," Arthur confided. "I haven't told anyone about the baby. I'm telling my family today. I hope they understand."

"They will," Sarah assured him. "If they're anything like you, they'll understand and be happy for you."

Sarah smiled and for a moment, Arthur believed that everything will be alright. That Ron would understand why he and Hermione got together, that Bill and Charlie wouldn't have another fistfight and that his fractured family would once again be whole. Dysfunctional as bloody hell, but then again, the Weasleys put fun in dysfunctional.

At least at one time, they did.

When Molly still remembered the young man she had vowed to love forever.

But Arthur was a realist. Hermione could have her pleasant daydreams of a chubby baby, but he was the one that would have to struggle to make her dreams come true. No matter what it did to his family.

* * *

They were still waiting thirty minutes later for their meeting when former Minister of Magic, now Hogwarts Instructor, Defence against the Dark Arts Instructor, Head of Hufflepuff, Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived. In spite of a failed assassination attempt, Kingsley still moved with all the grace of a jungle cat. Just these days, the lynx had a slight limp.

"Hello, Arthur!" Kingsley greeted him. "It's been too long." The two Order Members embraced and then Arthur realized that Sarah's mouth was wide open in surprise.

"Kingsley, I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Sarah Daly," Arthur politely introduced them.

"Please to make your acquaintance, Ms. Daly," Kingsley, as always, was the very epitome of politeness. Then he got down to business. "I hope you don't mind, but I heard through my connections that you're having some problems with Dafydd Lllewelyn. Let me help, Arthur, I might be able to put the fear of Shacklebolt into him."

"It's not necessary," protested Arthur.

"Let me," Kingsley repeated. "It's the very least I can do for Molly. She is a wonderful woman, and whatever I can do to make her happy, let me. I did visit her at Dympha's, but I believe that I truly frightened her so I didn't go back again."

"You are very intimidating," quipped Arthur.

"Excuse me; I was there when your wife decided to handle Bellatrix LeStrange. Now that was terrifying, Arthur," Kingsley joked. The former Minister of Magic turned serious. "I am sorry to hear about her illness, Arthur. Let me help you. We Order members have to stick together, there's not that many of the old gang left. I spoke to Minerva, and her lumbago's bad. Else she would be here in person, using her walking staff as a cudgel. I've heard that she has sent a Howler or three. Never ever anger an educator, Arthur; they bludgeon you to death with words. I found that out first hand when I tried to cut Hogwarts' funding after the war."

The door to the Director's office opened and Kingsley Shacklebolt accosted the secretary.

"I'll inform Gerry that I'm here to see him. He will make time for me, I'm sure," Kingsley stated in his slow, deep voice. And in he went, leaving the secretary sputtering behind him.

Sarah loudly exhaled.

"You know, I keep forgetting who you are," she told Arthur. "Who you know. What you've done. I keep treating you as **_just_** Arthur."

"I'm happy being just Arthur," he protested.

"You were at the battle of Hogwarts. You fought against Pius Thicknesse!"

"Percy helped a great deal," Arthur inserted.

She shook her head and sighed. "It doesn't matter who I am, what I've done, whom I known when my wife doesn't know who I am," Arthur softly said.

"It does matter, Arthur, because Director Gerard Hopkins wouldn't do a damn thing for Sarah Daly, but for Arthur Weasley? The patriarch of the Weasley clan? With friends like Shacklebolt and McGonagall, combined with Harry Potter being your son-in-law, Hopkins has to take you seriously," explained Sarah.

"I hope that's not the only reason why you talk to me," Arthur protested. "Because of the people I know."

"No, no, no." Sarah insisted. "Please don't think that!"

He just nodded his head. He couldn't seem to string the worlds together to say more.

In due time, Kingsley Shacklebolt came out of the office. He winked at Arthur and then told the older man that he'd be in contact in a few days. They'd go out for drinks, perhaps, as it had been far too long. While they were discussing the how and when for their get-together, Gerry Hopkins stuck his bald head out of the office.

"Come on in, Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Daly!"

* * *

Percy Weasley was mentally reviewing his conversation with George and Angelina. He focused on what Angelina had said about his father and then he pondered how Dad was acting with Hermione. Very protective, very sheltering. Dad was the one that helped Audrey with the dishes whenever Hermione offered, telling Hermione that she needed to rest after a long day at work. Plus there were those private conversations with the two of them where Arthur would fondly look at her and Hermione would blush. She was also wearing baggy sweaters, yes, it was early April and a bit brisk butafter she had divorced Ron, Hermione's clothes had run toward body hugging.

Oh bloody hell, Hermione was pregnant.

His first thought was outrage. _How could Dad do **this** to his family?_

The second darker thought was it had taken Harry and Ron's scandalous behavior to drop them to Least Favorites Sons and move Percy from Favorite Son # 7 to his current ranking of #5. If he didn't fully support Dad in this idiocyNo he shouldn't think like that. Merlin knew he had wasted enough on therapy sessions to accept that his father didn't have a ranking scheme on his sons. However with his mother ill, the buffer was gone, and memories of the past surfaced enough to unsettle him.

_Two months after Fred's death, two months of meals at the Burrow. Two months of Percy avoiding his father. It was easy to do, as Percy fell back into the old habits that he had perfected during Voldemort's reign of Terror at the Ministry. Best be invisible; fade into the background as well as you could so HE didn't notice you. There was a large crowd at the Burrow these days, so it wasn't that unlikely that he didn't chat with his father. Father was chatting a lot with Harry these days besides spending a great deal of time with George and Mum as was proper. Father didn't have time for him, because he never had time for him._

_Another meal devoured, he had spoken his goodbyes to Mum and was about to make his escape. She wanted him to move back into the Burrow but he refused. Let Mum tease him about his supposed lady friends, they both knew the truth. Living at the Burrow meant living with Father and he just couldn't bear to face the man._

_It was hard enough to be in the same room with him when there were others in the room._

_He put his hand on the doorknob, and the damn thing wouldn't turn. Bloody thing, it always stuck. Whispering a few spells to straighten the frame and lubricate the door knob, he tried again._

_Still stuck fast._

_The other door behind him closed._

_He continued to jiggle the door handle and then he attempted to Disapparate._

_No, damn it, still there._

_The cabinet door opened and then closed. Two glasses were put on the table by someone, and a panicking Percy continued to work the damn door as fervently as if Voldemort was the one in the room with him._

_Bloody hell, bloody hell. Anti-Disapparation charms, a Jammed door, the silence behind him. Percy knew if he turned, it would be Father He rested his head on the door and struggled to break his father's Anti-Disapparation charms. Behind him, a bottle was opened and something was being poured. Twice._

_He was shaking. Bloody hell, he was trembling as hard as he ever had when Fred and George had ganged up on him. Now, as then, there would be no way to escape._

_"As much as I've admired your dogged perseverance over the years, Percy, I do believe that door will remain unopened until I decide you can go," his father commented._

_"When will that be?" Percy asked. "I have to be at work early tomorrow."_

_"Tomorrow's Sunday, Percy," was all Father said._

_He stood there, facing the door, not knowing what to do, just hoping his Father would grow tired, that something would happen, that someone would need Father and his Father would be distracted by far more important people than his prodigal son._

_"Molly is quite upset. The fact that we're not talking is breaking her heart. Therefore, I have decided that we will clear the air between us. Tonight."_

_Percy was shaking so hard that he knew that he'd vibrate apart. His father's hand was on his shoulder, and he was spun around until he was facing his father. Facing him, yes, but looking at him, no._

_"Drink this," Arthur demanded as he forced the glass into his grasp. Percy's hands shook so badly that he dropped the glass. Instinctively, Percy backed into the corner even while he babbled that he'd repair the glass, and pleaded for Father not to be mad, as Percy was clumsy and it was his fault, it was always his fault and he was really, really sorry because he was an utter berk._

_"Percy, it's only a bloody glass," Arthur mildly commented. "Your mother never particularly liked the set, so feel free to break the rest of them. It was a wedding gift from your Great Aunt Muriel. Thought if your mother took up drinking, it would help her during her married life."_

_"Here, let's try this again. I give you the glass. We toast and then we drink," Arthur said._

_Percy nodded once. Another glass was filled and Percy held the glass very tightly._

_"To family," was Arthur's soft toast. They tapped their glasses and Percy threw back the drink in one gulp._

_Oh bloody hell; the world was spinning as whatever dragon's piss liqueur he had just drunk had just destroyed his equilibrium._

_"Let's have another one, Perce," his father jovially decided. Two shots later, and Arthur was physically supporting Percy._

_"What's in thisss?" Percy slurred as his father placed him a chair._

_"Something from Romania with a chaser of truth telling," Arthur said._

_'Yorrre sober," a disturbed Percy protested. "Not fairy fair."_

_"We need to talk Percy, and you're too good as dissembling. I want the bitter truth from you, not truth that has been sweetened up for consumption," explained Arthur._

_With no way out of the damn kitchen, Percy got absolutely shitfaced on Romanian dragon ale and the chaser loosened his tongue. The two men sat there, doing shots in rapid, silent succession until an inebriated Percy finally broke._

_"Do you ever like me? Even a little bit? I tried so hard I thought if I was perfect, if I didn't cause you any problems, you'd like me."_

_Percy tried not to remember the look his father had worn. Father had been gobsmacked. Not even Fred and George's antics had ever had his father at such a complete loss for words._

_"Percival Ignatius Weasley, I love you," his father firmly stated when he collected his wits. "I always have, and I always will. Yes, we were quite vexed with each other, but I never stopped loving you."_

_"You always did things with the others," Percy explained. "Never did anything with me. You were always taking Fred and George some place or another. You liked them. It wasn't like you were ashamed of them; you thought they were so bloody funny. So bloody wonderful that you just wanted to be with them."_

_The liquor and the chaser of truth telling had unloosened his tongue. To tell Father that Percy had always doubted Father had ever LIKED him had been cathartic. Therapeutic, liberating. Heart breaking as Father hadn't said a single world to refute that. No, he had crumpled into himself and not said a damn thing._

_No, instead Father had begun gulping shots down like he was intent on self-annihilation._

_When Father finally spoke, his voice was quite soft._

_"Why are you blaming yourself for my failure with you?"_

_"Because everybody bloody loves you. You are always taking all sorts of strays in, like Harry, like Remus and you never had time for me. Obviously, there's something seriously a matter with me if the Father of the century couldn't stomach me."_

_He had been proud, damn proud that he confessed that to his father. What he wasn't expecting was his father to grab him by his shoulders._

_"Look at me," Father demanded. "Believe me when I tell you that you should not blame yourself for the foundation I laid. I can't make excuses; I can't ask you to understand because I won't cheapen what you're feeling. Your Mum was exhausted after Ginny; it took her a while to get her strength back. Plus Ron was always sick. Bill was at school, Charlie couldn't control the twins, so I took them so I could wear them out so they'd be quiet for your mother." Arthur sighed. "I thought about taking you places but you seemed perfectly content with your books. I figured if you really wanted to do anything with me, you'd let me know. You were so bloody self-sufficient even as a child that I figured you really didn't need me."_

_"I figured that I just wasn't good enough. I reckoned if I just tried harder to be perfect, you'd want to do things with me," spat Percy._

_"I don't want you to be perfect, Percy. I want you to be happy. What I also want is for you to be part of the family again. We've already got one hole in the fabric of our family, two will tear us asunder."_

_The two men drank still more and then Arthur asked his son, "What do we do now? Can you at least come here and not try to hide from me?"_

_Percy nodded his head. To his surprise, his Father gave him a bear hug._

_"Perhaps, we could try more? If we started off slowly? If you're not doing anything tomorrow afternoon" Arthur slowly began. "You might want to stop by; I could use your help with some things. The kitchen door needs fixing as it always sticks. Could use a steady wand."_

_"Be delighted," Percy assured his father no Dad._

_"Why don't you bunk in your old room tonight, I think you're too drunk to get home safely," suggested Arthur. "As it is, I'm not sure if I can undo the damn Charm on the door. We might end up sleeping on the kitchen floor tonight."_

_"It would be like we're camping. Just like Muggles do, Dad," Percy said._

_"Dad?" Arthur repeated. "Haven't called me that in years."_

It had taken time, and a hell of a lot of therapy to rebuild Percy's relationship with his father. Dad had even volunteered to go with him for a couple sessions if it was deemed beneficial. Natalie the therapist had succinctly summed up their convoluted relationship after one group session. Both men loved each other, that much was certain. However, there had been a complete breakdown in communication. And slights, both real and imagined had cemented their rift. Percy needed to understand that his father would be there for him and Arthur needed to more demonstrative with Percy. When one spoke, the other man would let him finish his thought before inserting his view. Plus, both men had to immediately cease and desist in using Molly as a referee.

When Mum had gotten ill, Percy had restarted his therapy sessions with Natalie. Just a couple chats, so he could keep his mental equilibrium. Natalie had educated him that it was very important that he sustain his father during this trial.

And so he had.

Being there for his father, Natalie had reminded him, also included supporting Dad when he decided it was time to move on.

Somehow it was easy to glibly assure Natalie that he'd always support his dad when Percy didn't realize a pregnant Hermione factored into the equation. Yet, here was the chance to prove not to his father, but to himself, how far he had come since his teenage years. Very well, he'd support Dad when he faced his family, but it didn't mean that he wouldn't Floocall Natalie for an emergency chat.

* * *

"Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Daly," Director Hopkins intoned. "I don't think it was necessary to pull in the big wands for this discussion. We could have handled this between ourselves."

"I didn't ask Kingsley to get involved," Arthur insisted.

"Not just former Minister Shacklebolt but Minerva McGonagall, whose voice has not dimmed at all despite her years," Hopkins growled. He rubbed his ears and then continued, "Her voice is still ringing in my ears. I also had a meeting with Auror Potter regarding this matter."

"Harry?" Arthur repeated. "I certainly didn't inform him of the situation."

"Seems he visited Mrs. Weasley and was quite angered by her condition. His comments that I can repeat in mixed company were 'substandard', 'disgraceful' among many others. He also threatened a full feature in The Quibbler detailing the second-rate care given to one of the heroines of the war against V-v-voldemort." Hopkins stumbled on the name and then grimaced. "I should be able to say that name. Therefore you win; I'll be moving Mr. Daly back into the ward. Right now I understand that their intimacies are limited to."

"Hand holding and snogging," Sarah inserted.

"If it goes further, then I'll be required to intervene. We have to keep an eye out for our patients, and the potential does exist that as the dementia increases, so does the risk of violence," Director Hopkins explained. "It's especially difficulty to control spontaneous magical outbursts in witches and wizards that have dementia."

"When will he be transferred?" Sarah asked.

"He should be there in an hour or so," Hopkins explained.

Arthur bolted into an upright position, and murmured his sincerest thanks.

"I need to get to the ward. Make sure she's presentable."

* * *

Molly Weasley rocked in her chair. The graying, ginger-haired attendant was talking to her, asking her what she preferred to wear. What was his name again? She liked him as he was so sweet and just so trustworthy but she couldn't remember his name. He held up three dresses for her to choose.

"Something pretty, don't you think? He asked. "How about the green one?"

She nodded once.

"Very well, Elizabeth will get you changed and then we'll work on your hair. It's quite the fright," the man said.

While she had never been particularly vane, that comment was rather rude. She pouted and the man shook his head.

"Come now, don't sulk like you're a five year who has dropped her bag of sweets, Molly. We need to get you looking pretty."

The man was quite gentle with her knotted hair. Most just pulled and twisted it, but not him. He gently brushed her hair, making sure that the snarls and tangles were unraveled. "How do you know how to do that?" Molly asked.

"My wife taught me," he explained. "She was a marvel."

He had an odd though sweet smile, as though he was forcing himself to smile instead of cry. Well, no doubt it was rather horrible to work in such a place.

"You're so nice to me," Molly informed him. "You don't pull my hair like the others."

"Let's take you to the sun room," he suggested. "I believe that there's someone there you want to meet."

She didn't want to go the sun room, but the attendant insisted. Finally, she agreed only to shut him up. To her surprise, there was someone there someone she had missed a man with salt and pepper hair who was smiling widely at her. He held out his arms to her and she ran toward him.

"Roger?" Molly whispered.

"Yes, Molly, I'm back," he assured her.

They hugged and hugged, not noticing that the male attendant and a tall brunette female attendant had both left the sunroom. The two lovebirds certainly didn't spy the two attendants supportively embracing.

"Well, they're happy," the man said to the woman. "Now, comes the difficult part, where I tell my family about things"

"They'll understand," the woman assured him. "Our spouses have forgotten us and moved on with their lives. You're far too young to sit at home, alone."

"I'm also too old to be having babies," he protested.

Merlin's arse, he did not just say babies. As in more than one?

"Nonsense, Michael Garrison was having babies with his secretary when he was one hundred and thirty seven," she reminded him. "You're still quite young."

The man shuddered, thinking of that former Minister of Magic.

"Far better looking than Michael also," she reminded him. "He looked exceeding haggard especially after his wife found out about the affair."

Again, he hugged her, and when they separated, he tapped her nose.

"Find Peter and ask him out," he gently ordered. "I understand in these enlightened times, it's perfectly acceptable for a witch to ask out a wizard."

Sarah smiled and assured him that she'd Floocall Peter straightaway, and then she weaseled a promise out of him that they'd chat tomorrow to find out how things went for both of them. His mood considerably lightened, Arthur decided it time to visit the Healers. They had been harassing him about his follow up appointments with them and he had blown off all of them.

As expected, they harangued and chastised him especially when he told them he was still having chest flutters. They pushed off another potion on him and like a dutiful patient, he promised to take it.

Maybe. If he remembered.

That done, he was required to listen to his discharge instructions only four times and he was required to repeat them verbatim twice. Then they ganged up on him and made him take the newest potion. It was horrid. Tasted like something his mum used to make.

Even that didn't ruin his good mood, so he decided to pay a surprise visit to one Hermione Granger. He claimed that he just needed to speak to her briefly and he was ushered into her office. He closed the door behind him, and shook his head in disapproval. Hermione was terribly rattled by his appearance as it was something they never ever did.

"Just as I feared, you work too hard," he softly chastised. "You need a snogging break from the day to day drudgery of your occupation."

Arthur held out his arms to her and she grinned. Hermione gave him a dainty little peck on the lips and he decided that while he was quite old, she needed more respect for his virility. After all, it could fail any day now, so he hugged her close to him, and passionately kissed her. For added amusement, he decided to lift her completely off the ground. He used to kiss Molly like this all the time, as he was nearly a foot taller than her. Never in front of the kids though; it was always a polite peck on the cheek when they were around.

To his surprise, that comparison between Molly and Hermione didn't hurt him as much as he feared it would. It was more of a pang, for what once was, rather than a knife to the heart. Yes, it seemed that he was finally healing, thanks to Hermione and IT.

"Put me down," Hermione quietly hissed. "You'll hurt yourself."

Regretfully, he did, and then he kissed her some more.

"Do you remember those scandalous panties you wore our first time?" He whispered in her ear, midst kisses on her neck. "I rather miss them. Think they'll make a reappearance anytime soon?"

Hermione blushed.

"I can't fit them anymore," she reminded him.

"Do you have anything else in that color?" Arthur teasingly asked. "I hope that once we move in together, I'll get to pick out your naughty bits for you to wear"

"Move in together?" Hermione repeated.

"Well, yes, before our baby's born. We should really move in together, don't you think? We'll need to find a nice place, not too little. We'll need at least four bedrooms," Arthur detailed. "One can be the nursery naturally. When IT gets old enough for a proper bedroom, we'll have to work on filling the nursery again. It might require a great deal of practice."

"Arthur?" Hermione asked. Her voice was quite soft as though she wasn't sure that she had heard him correctly.

"Another ginger haired baby was on the list of Why I'm Afraid of Arthur Weasley, wasn't it?" Arthur reminded her. "Besides, IT will be lonely, being an only child as I don't think I'll have great-grandchildren for a while. Hopefully. But, really, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. You may have this one and decide never ever again."

Bloody hell, he had never realized how beautiful Hermione was when she smiled. She hugged him so tightly that she nearly broke every single one of his ribs. They kissed once more and Arthur sighed.

"Now back to work with you," he roughly ordered.

Hermione was blushing when they disentangled and she wore an ear to ear smile.

"Arthur?" she whispered. "I'll try to find something in that color for tonight."

"Make sure you get it slightly big," he reminded her. "So you can wear it until September."

* * *

George, Angelina, Audrey and Percy were waiting for him at George and Angelina's house. Someone, probably George, had a bit of foresight, as there was a bottle of firewhiskey on the table. Not that he drank often, but a little liquid courage might prove beneficial.

No, no, no. Sober discussion was required, not barroom carousing.

"Dad, we're physically here like you requested," Angelina informed him. "I just want to remind you that we're emotionally here for you also."

She tightly hugged him and George seemed to be giving her some sort of secret message as Angelina blushed after they disengaged.

"This is rather difficult for me," Arthur admitted. He sat down in a chair and deliberately looked at his family. "First of all, I haven't really prepared anything to say, I should have but I deeply appreciate your understanding about my relationship with Hermione."

They nodded. He was greeted with three smiles and a considering look. Naturally, that was from Percy.

"She's given me a great deal of happiness these last four months." Arthur paused and swallowed. "I don't know how to say this," he confessed.

"You and Hermione have gotten quite close, Dad," Angelina helpfully added. "We're really delighted you have found someone. Aren't we?"

A resounding yes from the peanut gallery, including Percy.

"Has your relationship gotten serious?" Audrey prompted.

"Quite serious," Arthur admitted. "I wasn't expecting it to get quite this serious so soon."

"We're quite happy for you, Dad. For you and Hermione," that was George. "We'll support you if you wish to tell the rest of the family."

"We know how glad she makes you," stated Audrey. "You've taken wonderful care of Molly, and you deserve to be happy."

"I hope that you feel the same way after I tell you everything," admitted Arthur. "I've given her a commitment ring. I can't do more that because I won't divorce your mother. Hermione understands my dilemma."

"A commitment ring. Very serious indeed," Angelina said.

"She's pregnant," Arthur blurted.

Three slack jaws and a nod from a completely stone faced Percy. Bloody hell, Percy had guessed?

"I'm the father," Arthur needlessly said. He flashed a weak smile. "Now, I'll stop talking and you can all yell at me. Shall we start a queue? Who wants to be first? Shall we do it alphabetical?"

That way Percy was last.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Bookends  
**Author:**  
**Prompt Number:** 194  
**Rating:** M - cursing  
**Main Pairing:** Hermione/Arthur  
**Secondary Pairings:** BW/FW, CW/Dragons, PW/AW, GW/AW, RW/HG, GW/HP, HP/RW  
**Summary:** There's a new Weasley on the way! Arthur's the dad and Hermione's the mum! How do the Weasleys react?  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.  
**Warnings/Kinks:** Prat!Ron  
**Word Count:** ~46,500 words. So wish I was kidding.  
**Summary:** Arthur informs his children about the newest addition to the family.  
**Author's Notes:** Thanks to my Betas, the letters J, K & L.

_Time it was and what a time it was it was,  
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.  
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph  
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you._

_ Bookends_ by Simon and Garfunkel

"Angelina?" Arthur questioned. Thankfully, there was no screaming so far, but the silence was bloody unnerving. He kept waiting for the other cauldron to boil over.

"Is Hermione happy?" was her lone question.

"She's ecstatic," was Arthur's easy answer. "Over the moon."

"And you're?" was Audrey's question.

"Still somewhat stunned about her pregnancy," was his response. "I do care a great deal about Hermione. I did before this and now, it's grown stronger. We had agreed to wait a little bit before we told the rest of our family the news. So much can wrong the first few months, plus I was uncertain about everyone's reaction. I didn't want to cause her any distress, so I decided to announce it without her. I fear that several family members wouldn't be happy."

"Wait a little bit?" George zeroed in on that. "How far along is she?"

"Roughly fifteen weeks now. She's due in mid-September."

"So, around the time you ended up in the hospital," George blurted after he did the math.

Angelina should have been a Beater, not a Chaser, if the sound her elbow made upon impacting George's ribs was any indication.

"Oy!" George protested. "I prefer my ribs NOT broken."

"Any more comments, George?" Arthur asked.

"Do you love her, Dad?" was George's final question.

_Bloody hell, the question. Whenever I had the Talk with my children, I always reminded them that making love was a commitment between two people that loved each other. Animals fucked, humans were different._

_This relationship started only because I was lonely_.

"Not the same way I love your mother," was Arthur's answer. "We first got together as we were both feeling more than a bit lonely. There's something between us, even without the baby, but I'm not sure how to define it. Hermione knows that I will support her through this, other than that, we're taking it one day at a time."

Silence.

"Percy?" Arthur question.

Percy was too bloody quiet.

"I hope I can count on your support in this, Percy," Arthur began. He stopped and tried to rephrase what he wanted to say. "Percy, please, say something. I know I've really buggered everything up by having this baby with Hermione. I'm sure you're quite mad at me, so go ahead, and say what you want. Just say it to me, don't take it out on Hermione."

Percy continued to ponder the issue and Arthur realized that he was blabbering like a bloody brook.

"I love your mother. I always will," Arthur pleaded. "It's just Hermione makes me happy."

_ How pathetic was that? She makes me happy._

"Say something, Percy," Arthur begged. "Tell me I haven't ruined it between us."

"I think Molly is old enough to mind the baby but Lucy might need another year or two," was what Percy said. "Audrey, do you agree?"

To say Arthur was gobsmacked was an understatement, akin to saying Voldemort had merely been a sulky toddler.

"Dad, why are you looking like that? I want you to be happy," protested Percy. "I know how much happier you've been with her in your life, but I'm not sure what the others will say. Ron is"

"A prat," George helpfully.

"Don't call your brother a prat," Arthur automatically chastised his middle son. Least he tried to say that, but instead he got the stuffing hugged out of him by Audrey. Then the rest of them decided that they didn't want to be left out so they piled on top of him.

Mercy, they really should be gentler on an old man, as his ribs were still sore after Hermione's hug.

* * *

Arthur Weasley, while quite happy that four well five, as he hoped that Fred approved of his family approved of his relationship with Hermione, wasn't too optimistic about the other dozen or so Weasleys. Let's seeBill and Fleur made two Charlie was three, Ron, Harry and Teddy were fourfive six and Ginny was seven Teddy was included in the discussion because he was the only grandchild that wasn't attending Hogwarts at the moment. No, he had graduated the previous year and was working on continuing his education so he could become an Auror like his mum had been. Like Harry and Ron were.

Merlin's beard, he was nervous if he was busy woolgathering instead of just speaking his mind. Best thing to do was keep cool and collected.

In what seemed a deliberate attempt at separating the various ginger haired powder kegs, Percy, George and their spouses had strategically separated Bill from Charles and Ron from the rest of the family. Ginny was sitting next to her big brother, Bill, intentionally ignoring Harry, Ron and Teddy. No, she was vigorously fluffing her pillow.

"Harry, I wish to thank you for visiting Molly. I understand that you were quite vocal about the care she was receiving." Arthur thought that was a proper way to start. "Kingsley Shacklebolt also intervened."

"I wish I could do more for her," Harry said softly.

"That's not the reason why I called this meeting. This is rather difficult for me to say," Arthur began. "I want you all to realize that I love each and every person in this room. You're family, and I know this past eighteen months has been rather rough."

He ignored Ginny's eye roll at his heartfelt expression of love. It was obvious that Ginny felt that several of those present were not worthy of his love. Arthur mentally slapped himself to get to the point, and he continued, "And you all mean the world to me. I wanted to make sure that you all know that. Teddy, I know we're not related by blood, but I consider you my grandson."

"Dad, you're not dying, are you?" Ron asked.

"Don't be a prat," Ginny snapped. "Dad wants to tell us something and you should keep your mouth closed. Nobody wants to listen to you."

"Well, it must be serious, as he's taking the roundabout way to get to the point," Ron retorted.

As expected, Weasley War V was looming on the horizon. It was time for him to nip it in the bud.

"Ginny, don't antagonize your brother. As everyone is well aware I spent some time in the Cardiac Casualty Ward a few months back. Ron, I can assure you that I'm not dying," Arthur assured him. "That health scare I had, it made me realize a few things. I love your mother, deeply. To my shame, I had to admit that I wasn't the best husband to her, as we never had a great deal of money. I was in a dead-end job at the Ministry and she deserved an easier life."

"Dad, don't say that," Percy protested.

"Dad, we didn't have a lot of money, true," Bill inserted. "But we had a lot of love. You were the best father I could ever hope to have."

Arthur swallowed once and then thought, _I hope you think that after this. _

"I thought a great deal about your mother and our relationship. Those of you that visit her know that she's quite smitten with a fellow patient in the ward. I don't resent that, because in her mind, we were never married." Arthur then paused, and then gathered his courage. "Since your mother's moved on, I've decided I can also."

"Are you divorcing Mum?" Charlie asked. His tone was accusing.

"No, no, no. I will never divorce your mother. I need to stay in charge of her health care issues, yet I'm seeing someone, who understands the situation with your mom." Arthur paused and waited for the reaction. "Understand that I wasn't looking for anything, but it happened. Now that your mom's moved on, I guess I have the right to do so also."

"You're seeing someone?" spat Charlie.

"Yes, it started up after your Mum got involved with Roger," Arthur explained.

"Mum" Charlie protested.

"Mum was perfectly at peace with the possibility that Dad might date again," Percy inserted. "After her diagnosis, she and I spoke about many things. She firmly believed that Dad needed someone to keep an eye on him and darn his socks when she could no longer do so, so she gave her blessing."

"Is that true?" Bill questioned.

"I have long toes, my socks always need darning," Arthur admitted. "But yes, your mother gave me her permission to find someone. She hoped"

He dropped his head so he could regain his composure. Bloody hell, why was this so damn difficult?

"She hoped that I might find someone special"

"And is she?" Audrey prompted. Good old Audrey, she was trying to help the others come to terms with this.

"Yes, I find her quite remarkable," Arthur admitted. He wore a slight smile. "She makes me happy. I've quite forgotten what it was like to be happy. I've been in mourning for Molly for so long that she's like a ray of sunshine."

"She knows about Molly?" was Harry's question.

"Yes, she's well aware of the situation with Molly, her diagnosis and her terminal prognosis, and she also understands that I can't give her the complete commitment that I'd like," Arthur explained. "She's quite understanding."

"We'll have to meet her," Fleur announced. "Perhaps, everyone can come to our house for dinner? Perhaps, a bouillabaisse or vichyssoise"

Fleur ignored the pained looks from the crowd while she planned the menu. While she had been married to Bill for many years, her cooking was still French cuisine and inedible to the Weasleys raised on Molly's cooking.

"Commitment?" Teddy asked. "It's sounds serious."

"Yes," Arthur agreed. "It's very serious. I care for her a great deal. It's different than the relationship I had with your mum. For one thing, she doesn't yell at me as much as your mum did, but I'm assuming that will come in time."

Arthur barked a laugh.

Charlie was shaking his head in disapproval. He wasn't saying anything but it was readily apparent that he was angry that his father was replacing his mother in his life.

"Dad, I'd really like to meet her," was Ginny's input. "You deserve to be happy."

So far, it seemed that Charlie was the only one that was dead-set against the situation. He had always been particularly close to Molly, so his disapproval was understandable. Arthur looked at the four that knew the truth. They were being silently encouraging and Arthur decided it was now time.

"Actually, you do know her. Some of you know her better than others," he drolly admitted. "I'm seeing Hermione."

"Hermione?" was Ron's rapid retort. "Hermione who?"

"Hermione Granger, your ex-wife, you BERK," Ginny snapped. "Dad, isn't she a little. Young for you?"

Charlie's face was a thundercloud and he jumped to his feet. No doubt he was planning on protesting. Bill was struggling to handle the situation in an adult fashion and he roughly ordered his brother to sit down. Harry was smiling and nodding his head in quiet approval. No doubt the fact that Hermione was in a new relationship eased his guilty conscience.

"Harry! Don't be a daft praft. This isn't a good thing," Ron blurted. "Hermione's using Dad to get back at us."

"This is going to be so good," an acidic Ginny snapped. "Let's hear Ron's ridiculous reasoning."

"I don't see you hugging Dad and calling Hermione, Mum," Ron retorted.

"Enough," Arthur's voice snapped. "Ron, tell me exactly why you believe Hermione's using me to get back at you. I'm sure it will be quite illuminating."

"Please, Dad, you are getting onin years," a tactless Ron stated. "She is significantly younger than you. She was always so bloody demanding about I mean, do you think you canDo you expect us to believe thatat YOUR age? All she did was whinge aboutthatBitch, bitch, bitch, moan, moan, moan. I want, I needShe's using you as you're. lonely then when she's got her hooks in you, she'll break your heart saying that you're not up to par."

Ron paused, his meaning entirely clear to Arthur and everyone else in the room. Teddy's hair turned a bright shade of day glo pink. As did his skin and various other organs.

"Ron!" Teddy protested.

"Actually, Hermione is quite pleased with that aspect of our relationship," Arthur tersely informed his son. "I'm rather chuffed, I must confess. A man of my advanced years able to repeatedly satisfy such a young lady"

The look on his shocked children's faces was just too much for Arthur. But why the hell was Angelina delightedly grinning at Audrey? She didn't just loudly crow, "Look at what we have to look forward to, Aud!"

"Bloody hell, just because I'm in my sixties doesn't mean that I'm dead. Hermione and I are intimate. Rather regularly, Ron. Why are you acting so surprised? Did you think your Mum just darned my socks at night?"

"Too much information!" Teddy wailed. Sadly, his Metamorphmagus skills completely failed him as he was unable to match the color and texture of the sofa cushions. "ENTIRELY TOO MUCH INFORMATION. Doesn't anyone agree with me? That's it just too much information for a family gathering?"

"In fact, Hermione is having a baby," Arthur said.

"Who's the father?" Ron quipped. "Mr. Turkey baster."

"And I'm warning you this once; you best keep a proper, civil tongue, Ronald Bilius Weasley, when you talk about my Hermione. She is having our baby in September, and I'm quite happy about it."

Absolute stunned silence greeted that remark as though a Silencio Charm had been cast.

There, it was out in the open, and then the screaming began. Ginny was demanding to know how it had happened, Charlie was furious and Bill, Bill was just shaking his head.

"Shut up, Charlie, it's not like you visit Mum," Percy informed his brother. "It's so bloody easy for you. Oh, I'm just so busy with my dragons here in Romania. Floo me if there's a problem. I might show up."

"That's priceless, coming from you. Turned on your own family for forty pieces of silver and your bloody Ministry Career," Charlie spat.

"Yes, I've made my mistakes, and regretted them. But at least, I visit Mum," Percy growled. "You might visit her if she only had scales and breathed fire."

"Dad, I'm assuming that this baby was planned wanted," Bill struggled to keep his composure. "Did you actually care how this might affect the family? Really? Ron's ex-wife?"

"I want this baby, yes," Arthur insisted. "We both do. As for how this would affect Ron, Ron's no longer married to her. He doesn't even speak to her, so why should it affect him?"

"I thought I got rid of the nagging witch," Ron groaned to the uncaring universe. "Now, she's my bloody step-mum."

"Don't you say that," Charlie growled. "Dad's still married to Mum."

"For now," Bill stated in a flat tone. "Her life expectancy is extremely short. Percy's right, Charlie. You were off gallivanting in Romania with your bloody dragons, so you have no right to say anything about how Dad treats Mom. Considering how much you protested Dad committing Mom, it's amazing that you haven't even visited her."

"You should just shut your bloody trap, Ron. This is your entire fault. If you could have kept your dick out of Harry" Ginny growled. "You'd still be married to her. Possibly, she might be having your baby instead of DAD'S."

"Oh hell no, I never wanted kids with HER," Ron blurted. "Bloody killjoy. I can't believe Dad got her pregnant. You'd think about seven kids Dad would know the spell to"

"Don't you dare say it! Don't you dare even think that I would use the abortion spell on any child that I help create," Arthur quietly enunciated. "Very well, I'll let you all have your say. Now it's my turn."

"Oh God, Dad has more to say?" Charlie groaned. "What now? She's having twins? One set of twins was enough. You barely survived those two hellions, Dad, and Mum was the only reason. Fred"

George hit Charlie then, a roundhouse punch that knocked his older brother on his arse. Charlie hit Bill on the way down, who managed to pull Ron down with him. Within moments, a full fledged brawl was taking place as brothers fought brothers and the youngest sister energetically hexed her ex-husband and his new love. And the daughter-in-laws? Audrey and Angelina had prevented Fleur from defending her husband by grabbing her by her arms and putting her into the corner where the three women were arguing. Arthur grabbed Teddy by his arms, preventing him from being pulled into the fracas.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Arthur's voice carried over the brawl. Wands flew everywhere and then the various combatants froze in position when it was quickly followed by "Immobulus!"

"I can't believe the entire sorry lot of you," Arthur whispered. The assortment of black eyes, broken noses, scrapes, cut and assorted bruises was the reason for his disbelief.

His voice strengthened. "This is what I'm doing. I'm leaving. I'm walking out because I refuse to acknowledge that my family would ever act like this. You'll be stuck in position for the next ten minutes, so I can escape. Teddy, I've decided that you need to be able to move so you can keep an eye on them to make sure nothing happens to them. I'll see you in ten days. Don't contact me before then as I won't be pleased."

"Go have your sulks, have a tantrum, but when we meet again, you will treat me with respect. Most importantly to me, you will behave PROPERLY towards Hermione. If you all don't accept the terms, then you're all dead to me. Every single one of you, so that means if Ron or Charlie decides they can't be respectful, then I will never speak to any of you again."

Teddy, the lone bystander who had not been silenced, de-wanded and immobilized, protested.

"But but you're my granddad! You're the only one I have!" Teddy wailed.

"Ted, I'm sorry. I don't wish to be the reason for my children arguing. Here's a little secret, Ted. You see, I'm the Father of this rather dysfunctional family. I don't really need their approval on my decisions. I would be delighted to have it, but I won't live my life subject to their say-sos. Because a few of them would let their personal prejudices dictate my life."

"I love Aunt Hermione," Ted assured him. His hair was quite dark and that moment, he looked a great deal like his father, complete with facial scars. "She read me stories when I was younger. She always made time for me. I'm delighted that you and Hermione have an understanding."

"Ted," Arthur softly said. "Harry is your Godfather, and he's involved with Ron. Ron and Hermione have a history, a not very happy history. I don't want to put you in a position where you're in conflict with Harry and Ron over this."

"But you promised," a plaintive Teddy reminded Arthur. "You promised me that you'd always be my granddad." Arthur looked at his grandson and gave him a tight embrace.

"Listen, I must do this. Hermione is having a baby. Our baby. She needs to be the center of my universe right now. Hermione wants this very badly and I must ensure that it goes as smoothly as it can for her. I can't take very good care of her and the baby if I have to constantly referee my GROWN children. When you and Victoire have children, you'll understand, Ted. I did what I could for Molly and now it's Hermione's turn."

Ted, being his father's son, nodded his head.

"I love you," Arthur assured his grandson. "You were my first grandson. I got to make all my mistakes on you, and you turned out just fine anyway."

"I'll miss you," Teddy wept.

"Don't give up on them. They might do a lot of growing up in the next ten days," Arthur quipped.

Then with a slight pop, he was gone.

* * *

"Perky!" Arthur called out when he arrived in his office. "I'm in need of a holiday. Mind if I take off the next week?"

Perkins, who normally loathed being called Perky, was delighted to see Arthur Weasley had a bit of a bounce in his step. "Go ahead," he mock grumbled. "I do all the work 'round here anyway. You don't do a lick of work anyway."

"Thanks, I owe you," Arthur admitted. "You've been a real brick these last few months."

"Off with ya, I've got work to do, my boss expects me to do everything as he's never round," Perkins growled. This was the closest the two men would come to discussing the Molly situation. Not that Perkins didn't care, he did, but it was the way the two men were.

Weasley then popped back into Hermione's office, earning a rather considering look from Hermione's secretary.

"You're back," was her comment, but her amused tone spoke volumes.

"I'd like to see Ms. Granger again," he politely explained.

"I think she'd quite enjoy seeing you again," was her retort. "Try not to leave her in such a state of dishabille, please. People will start to notice." The secretary barged into Hermione's office and announced his arrival. Then, she smirked when she informed him that he could come right on in.

"She knows," a blushing Hermione admitted. "That we're seeing each other."

"That's fine. Any chance you'd like to go on holiday with me?" Arthur asked. "Took off the entire next week. We can catch the next Port Key to Paris if we hurry. We'll need to pick up Crookshanks and Jasper so we can bring them."

"Paris?" Hermione asked.

"Paris," Arthur repeated. 'If not Paris, then Salem. I don't care as long as it's with you two. And by that, I mean you and IT, not Shanks. Your Kneazle still gives me a dirty look."

"Shanks adores you, he just looks like that at everyone. But seriously, I have to get some clothes," Hermione explained. She blushed when she told Arthur that she had picked up something special for the evening.

"Do you have it here?" Arthur asked.

"Well, yes, but you can't see it until tonight," chastised Hermione.

"That's all the clothes you need," explained Arthur. "You're what I'm planning on sightseeing."

"Arthur!" Hermione gasped. She was more amused than shocked by his boldness. "What is bringing all this on? Not that I'm complaining, but it is unexpected."

"It is long past to bring this out in the open. I told my family about us," Arthur explained. "And I told them about IT."

"I thought we were doing that together," she protested.

"I didn't want to subject you to them," he explained. "As I feared, the responses were mixed. They were squabbling when I left."

"Oh no, I'm so sorry," Hermione exclaimed.

"Don't be. I told them that I was unhappy with their attitudes and that I didn't wish to see any of them for the next ten days. As I explained, I took a holiday and I don't need to be back to work until Monday next. Shall we go to Paris? Or shall we look for our new home?"

"Let's look for our new home," Hermione decided. "Paris is nice, but I like the idea of us living together more."

"We'll have to get new furniture. First thing, we're getting a new bed. You don't seem to like mine," Arthur said. "And I like to stretch out in bed so your Double is a bit small. While it's lovely for cuddling, I may fall out of it come August when there's simply no room for me. I prefer a Super King Bed sized mattress as there is more acreage for nocturnal fun. Any preference on headboards? I prefer the ones with slats so I can tie"

Really, it wasn't necessary for him to bandy a handkerchief about like he was a third rate Muggle magician, but how Hermione gasped when she saw it. And it was a gasp of pure glee, not fear.

"ARTHUR! My secretary is probably eavesdropping outside my door. I Charmed it, but no doubt she's got a glass against the door."

"Sorry, forgot. We haven't tried that yet... Hermione" Arthur's tone turned serious. "I know you you're not comfortable in my flat because there's too much Molly in it. I know that so don't worry, when we move in togetherI'll get rid of it all. I need to look forward, not backwards."

"Arthur Charles Weasley, I know that you have the biggest heart of anyone I have ever met," Hermione assured him. Deliberately, she put her hand over his heart. "There's room in your heart for all your crazy family, all ninety billion of them along with that large covey of assorted strays that you've picked up through the years. There's certainly space enough in your heart for Molly to have a very large section just for her and for you to still have a snug little spot for me."

"I don't want you to judge yourself second-rate," protested Arthur. "You've had enough of that. In this relationship, it's just the two of us that matter." "Arthur, Molly is part and parcel of who you are," Hermione began.

"You're part of me also," Arthur interrupted. He put his hand over her belly. "I'm part of this, you're part of this, and we will always have a connection because of this. I don't want you to secretly fear that I compare you with Molly. When we make love"

"It's me who you are loving, I know. I can feel it in your touch and your kisses," Hermione assured Arthur. "Arthur, I'm not letting you get rid of Molly. By all means, keep your photos, your reminiscences, but I'd like a new bed that has a headboard with slats. That way we can make our own memories."

They embraced then, and Arthur thoroughly kissed her. They were still hugging when Hermione giggled.

"That sounds like you've having a naughty thought," Arthur teased her. "Did you just nick my idea?"

"I just thought how nice it would be the tie-er, not the tie-ee," she admitted.

"Both can be a great deal of fun," was all he'd confess.

Then he turned serious. "Do you like to dance? Not that weird stuff that popular these days where you look like you're having a fit, but proper dancing. I'd like to go dancing with you tonight. By that I mean, would you like to go on a date with me? Go out in public for a bit of dinner, dancing? Or maybe dancing and then dinner."

"A date?" a delighted Hermione repeated. "You want to take me out on a date?"

Good lord, she was glowing because he had asked her out.

"Let's go public with our relationship. My family is aware and stewing on the happy news. I'm tired of hiding, Hermione. The only reason why I hid our closeness for so long was because I needed to get some things squared away."

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt buzzed Minerva McGonagall on her cheek when he came down for breakfast the next day. She was ignoring him as she was reading _The Daily Prophet_

.

"Obviously, last night wasn't very good for you if you're reading that rag," he mock growled. "What's so fascinating about the gossip column?"

"You should be in school, rather than looking for compliments for your usual superb job. Arthur Weasley looks good with a beard," was Minerva response from the tabloid. "And apparently, he's quite the kisser."

"I don't have first hand knowledge of that, Min," was Kingsley's response.

"You saw Arthur yesterday. Besides failing to mention his new beard, you completely neglected to mention the fact that he's dating Hermione Granger!" Minerva snapped. She noisily closed the paper and then thwacked her husband with it.

"Hermione Granger and Arthur Weasley?" Kingsley Shacklebolt was rather surprised.

"Are you surprised about the age difference? That would be horribly ironic," Minerva quipped. "Or do you prefer the dynamics of the male being the younger?"

Like bloody hell was he getting into THAT this early in the morning. He had fought off Voldemort, yes, with Horace Slughorn and Minerva McGonagall's help, but like bloody hell would he argue semantics with Minerva McGonagall before she had downed her first cuppa.

"No, Hermione was always the oldest in that group," Kingsley explained. With a fluid gesture of his lovely hands, he accented "oldest". "Molly's moved on he should also. I'm just surprised that it's Hermione. She's so Hermione and he's just so"

"Arthur" Minerva inserted. "Calm, patient, loving, responsible a very decent man except for his strange fetish for Muggle technology. He should have been an enjineer."

"Engineer," the Muggle born Kingsley explained to the pure-blooded Scottish witch.

"Isn't that what I said? But yes, I can see after dealing with that red-headed Peter Pan for the last ten years that Hermione might focus on a stable male. I approve. Shall we invite them over for dinner one night? So they can be properly scandalized by our age difference? I mean, they've publicly announced their intentions toward each other, perhaps we could invite them over to congratulate them."

"Somehow, I doubt that they're married," Kingsley reminded his wife.

"Wouldn't the knowledge that we're married scandalize poor Hermione? That I took shameless advantage of you when we were both grieving Alastor?" Minerva grinned. She picked up the tabloid she had claimed was a horrid rag, suitable only for cleaning windows. In her distinctive tone that always made Shacklebolt weak in the knees, Minerva began to read.

"Arthur Weasley, effectively made a widower by the cruel ravages of dementia, recently was seen waltzing with a much younger woman. That not being scandalous enough, dear readers," Minerva stopped and growled. "I can't believe Rita is still writing."

* * *

"That not being scandalous enough, dear readers," Bill Weasley read to his wife. "The fact that his tasty little bon bon is his ex-daughter-in-law who was so cruelly cast aside when husband decided to play Beater to Harry Potter's Seeker just makes it all so Electra-fying.."

"ELECTRA! He's not bloody Agamemnon. Mum is not Clymestra," Charlie growled.

"It gets worse, Charles. Naturally, I'm sure you're all wondering how the many Weasleys from his so far first and only marriage where handling the fact that Arthur is stepping out with his daughter-in-law?"

"Don't tell me," Charlie protested. "She talked to Ginny? I don't think they can print her response in the paper."

Fleur, having already read the article, wisely stepped out of the room.

"George," spat Bill.

"BRILLIANT!" Charlie growled.

"She talked to George and little sod said'I am delighted that my father has found happiness. His deep, abiding love for my mother has always been the great constant of my childhood. Her illness has been a difficult, lonely burden for him to shoulder. I am elated that he has found someone to dance with during this difficult time in his life'."

"Angelina wrote that," Charlie snarked.

"In celebration of Dad's joie de vivre, I'm offering a fifteen percent discount on all products at my stores for the next week" Bill continued. "With the lone exception of the 'Big Popper Weasley Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs', which while supplies last will be sixty five percent off its regular price. So, light the blue touch paper and stand well back as Big Popper goes on and on all night long. Laissez les bon temps rouler!"

"It seems that George approves," was Charlie's terse response.

Fleur, not hearing fireworks, decided it was safe to step back into the room. Angelina had not been the only daughter-in-law writing George's supposed response. She and Audrey had both assisted.

"You both should go visit your mother. Try to understand your father's position," she offered.

"Mom said not to visit her," Charlie said. "She wanted us to remember her as she was."

"Your father visits her almost every day," Fleur reminded the two oldest sons. "You should visit your mother. Bring her something niceI usually bring her sweets. She likes the taste, and really, it is such a small thing to make her happy."

"You visit Mum?" Bill asked. "You never told me."

"I try to visit once a week. We didn't quite see eye to eye when I first married you, but I can not blame her. She wanted only the best for her son, and once she realized that I was it, we became quite close," Fleur explained in excruciatingly exact and over pronounced tones.

"You approve of Dad and Hermione?" Bill asked.

"Yes. Do you see the way they fit together when they dance? They're happy. Hermione never looked that happy when she was with your brother," Fleur reminded Bill. "Go see your mother, both of you. See what your father has been dealing with first hand. I want my children to have a relationship with their Grand-pre."

Bill Weasley knew when his wife was about to put her foot down, and she was considerate enough to make it seem like it was all HIS idea when he agreed with her decision.

"What time are the visiting hours?" was his response.

* * *

Theodore Remus Lupin was barricaded in his room. When the Daily Prophet Owl appeared at his window, he quickly ushered it into his room. He exchanged its package with a small sack full of Galleons and then pushed the owl out of his window. The owl hooted its displeasure but Teddy didn't care. Instead, he carefully opened the package.

It was the picture of Grandfather dancing with Aunt Hermione. It was a nice picture, Teddy thought. He didn't understand why Ron had shredded their copy of the Daily Prophet when he saw it that morning. Teddy carefully placed it in a frame next to his favorites, one with him, Harry and Ron, a very rare picture of his Mum and Dad and a print of him with Grandfather and Grandmother Weasley. He was probably four at the time and he had metamorphed himself into a little Arthur Weasley, except his hair was a rather shocking shade of scarlet.

Deliberately, he placed the frames of his parents' frames to overlap the pictures of Grandfather. He wanted to see something, as he had a bit of freak talent where the people in his photos would often jump across the frames. He had discovered that when he had witnessed a rather raucous party when he had turned eighteen with Dad, Uncle Sirius and Mum.

As he feared and yet had anticipated, Molly Weasley jumped into the new picture. Dad and Mum were right behind her, just in case there would be a fight. Aunt Hermione was protectively pushed behind Grandfather as he was standing between the two women in his life.

It was a tense moment, and Teddy prayed that he'd be right about this. It would be important, he knew.

Grandmother held out her arms, as though she wanted to hug them. The trio then collapsed into a group embrace with a weeping Grandfather kissing both women. Grandmother buzzed him a few times and then she kissed Hermione. The two women tightly embraced and Grandmother's hand was resting on Hermione's belly.

"She approves," Harry whispered behind him.

"Of course she would," Teddy insisted, though for a few moments there he had been worried that he'd be wrong about Grandmother. "She loved Grandfather, and it wasn't a selfish love. She wouldn't want him to be in mourning. Why is Ron being so down on this?"

"It's complicated," was Harry's terse explanation. "I think Ron might approve if it wasn't for the fact that it's Hermione."

"I don't understand. He divorced her, what does it matter to him if Hermione moves on with her life?" Teddy asked.

"Because everything that Hermione ever wanted from Ron, his father will be the one providing it to her. Ron's always had a bit of inferiority complex as he was the sixth son. He's used to being compared to his brothers and found a bit lacking. But now, his ex-wife is comparing him to his father and"

"I don't want to lose Grandfather just because Ron's having a dicky fit," Teddy protested. "Arthur's my only grandparent I have. He always made time for me when Nana Dromeda was ill."

"It's not just Ron that's the problem. All of Ron's siblings need to agree," Harry reminded Teddy. "I'll start working on Ron."

* * *

Ginny Weasley took a long hard look in the mirror and she decided that she quite did not like the woman that she saw looking back. When had the humiliation of being traded in for her brother turned her into such a hardened shrew? Just because she once was the star Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies didn't mean she had to act like one. Mum was ill, and her father was lonely. Hermione? Well, least Dad was keeping it in the family. Someone that was quite used to the insane dynamics of the Weasley family.

Therefore, she decided she needed to apologize. But how? Dad didn't wish to see any of them for ten days, so perhaps a heartfelt letter would be sufficient.

_Dear Dad & Hermione,I'm truly sorry that I was such a bitch. I should have been happy for your good news but I was too busy being a stroppy cow. I love you both and I want you both to be very happy._

_I hope you'll forgive me. No excuse really, but I hope that you believe that I am sorry._

_Dad ~ If you want me to mind the baby so you can have a date night with Hermione, just let me know._

_XOXOXO_

_G_

She owled it off and in a few hours, a small brown owl was pecking at her window. With anxious fingers, she tore the envelope.

Dad was too busy shagging Hermione to do much more than draw a happy face and write a quick "XOXOXO Dad".

It was time for new beginnings, Ginny decided. Perhaps, she'd owl Neville and see what he was doing. Rumor had it that he and Hannah had separated.

* * *

Molly had unexpected visitors. Both terribly handsome men with one very freckled and tanned and the other with odd scars that oddly made him even more striking. They brought her sweets and attempted to make conversation with her, but she was too shy. Instead she focused on her sweets.

Really, the men were quite good-looking. They asked her many questions and gradually she warmed up to them. She told them about her days at the Hospice. She mentioned Roger and in passing, she apologized for her messy hair. The ginger haired attendant seemed to be on holiday and he was the only one that could make her curls behave.

The tanned, freckled one offered to do her hair and it was quite the scene. His hands were gentle but he was hopeless at hair care. The long haired one she flatly refused to let touch her hair as it was bad enough. With unruly hair like HIS, who knows HOW her hair would turn out? As Molly grew tired, she grew more confused and she begged off their visit. When her attendant came to take her back to her room, the scarred one had to remind her to take the sweets.

"They're mine?" a delighted Molly asked. "I like sweets."

* * *

Bill and Charlie were both quite subdued when they returned home. Bill threw a handful of Floo powder into his fireplace and floocalled Percy.

"Perce, Charlie and I visited Mum. By all means, we approve of Dad and Hermione. What's the currently tally?" Bill asked. He chatted with his brother for a bit and then he ended the call.

"Ron is the lone holdout," Fleur predicted.

"Correct," Bill confirmed. "Currently the vote is Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Audrey, George, Angelina, Harry, Teddy and Ginny approve. It has been decided that Fred's vote is YES also. So it's Thirteen approvals, Mom is abstaining and one flat out Hell No."

"Thirteen?" Charlie asked.

"Hermione and Dad get a vote, and we're assuming that they're yes. As for Ron, Harry is working on him."

"There's no way Dad might consider just ignoring Ron?" Charlie asked. "I don't think he's coming around. You know how he gets."

"All or none," Bill reminded Charlie.

* * *

Hermione liked watching Arthur. Right now he was busy writing out their budget and she was content to watch. Really, he was just so strict with himself, limiting himself to bare necessities and essential purchases while allotting her a generous Hermione account.

"Now, you check my numbers," he requested as he pushed the parchment towards her. "I think we have enough for the house you liked. You know which one, the one with the really big bedroom."

Really, he didn't need to add that suggestive leer, did he? While Hermione had enjoyed house shopping with Arthur, he had scandalized her by pointing out what sexual possibilities existed in each house.

"With the built in bookshelves," she primly responded. "Plus, you didn't have to slouch in sections of it like you did in the Burrow."

He rubbed his left shoulder and wiggled his neck.

"Speaking of slouching, think you can massage my shoulders later tonight?" Arthur requested.

"Yes, but if they're bothering you"

"Not visiting those people. Not any time soon, especially just because I strained something," he gently protested. "Visiting them is expensive and we have other concerns. I'm good at adapting clothing charms but really, you have items that you really need to buy. Now check the budget and let me finish the dishes."

They worked in silence for a bit and then Hermione spoke.

"You made up a new last will and testament?" was her hesitant question.

"Bloody hell, that wasn't supposed to be in that pile of parchment. Yes, I need to provide for you, IT and whatever siblings IT might have. I can't give you everything, Hermione, as I need to provide something for Molly's care, but you'll be able to live comfortably."

"But what about your other children?" Hermione asked. "There's nothing here for them."

"I'm not a rich man, Hermione. I'm not George or Harry. They're on their own, and living independently. You'll need help, especially anything happens to be me before our children reach their majority."

"While I like the sound of our children, I don't like the idea" Hermione began.

"I'm thirty years older than you, Hermione. I'm planning for the worst, and anticipating the very best," Arthur patiently explained.

"But your family"

"Will not be my family if they don't accept this," Arthur explained. With a loud crack, Arthur broke the dish he was holding. "Bugger it."

He had sliced his hand open, and she rushed to his side.

"Easy," she whispered. "Let me see your hand."

With a quick sweep of her wand, she closed the wound. Damn it, the one thing she disliked about Arthur was his intense need to protect her. He claimed that he was just fine regarding his current estrangement from his family as he could focus completely on Hermione. Yet, he had shattered the dish which meant that he was quite upset.

"I've told you that I don't want to split your family, Arthur," Hermione protested.

He put his hands on her shoulders. His blue eyes were intense as he looked down at her.

"You and your sweet belly ARE my family," Arthur softly assured her. "The mothers of my children will always come first in my life. I know our relationship is quite irregular, butyou and our baby take priority over my grown children."

He paused, and then Arthur grimaced.

"I pray that I never have to choose between you and Molly," he admitted. "Because there's no way I can split myself in two."

"I would never ask that," protested Hermione.

"Hermione, you would never ask it of me. But I might ask it of myself," he reminded her. "I want to marry you before you have our baby but I can't divorce Molly. I'll lose any right to make her healthcare decisions if I'm no longer her husband. We discussed in detail what she wanted. I divorce her, Bill will likely take over that role, and he doesn't even visit her. Yet, I don't want our child to be born on the wrong side of the blanket."

"I wouldn't marry you even if you asked," Hermione informed him.

Arthur winced.

"Perhaps you could be kind enough to sound a little regretful," he half-teased. "My ego would be quite appreciative."

"You love Molly, Arthur. I won't let you divorce her in order to marry me," explained Hermione. "She needs you now, Arthur. I married for what I thought was love, once, and it was a mistake. I don't wish to be married again."

She was lying. Deep in her heart, she rather fancied the idea of being married to Arthur, so they'd be a proper family. Plus, she was rather conservative at heart. But if Hermione looked too deeply at that fantasy, she always saw that she was married to Arthur because he loved her, not because of the baby.

Foolishly, she had once believed in love and marriage.

Now sadder and much wiser, Hermione preferred her irregular relationship with Arthur. It wasn't love, as Arthur didn't love her, but there was companionship and honest affection. There were delightful kisses and frequent lovemaking, long conversations about absolutely nothing liberally spiced with sips of ginger tea and Arthur's gentle hand in the middle of the night as he pulled her closer to him. And there were the quiet, heartbreaking moments; a mute Arthur kneeling in front of her, his head resting on her belly while he tightly hugged her, needing her and the baby to realign his soul.

She certainly wouldn't risk this by demanding something from Arthur that he couldn't shouldn't... give her.

But she needed to heal the breach this had caused with his family. Who to approach first? Percy? George? _**George**_.

* * *

Her plan worked surprisingly well. She seduced a rather willing Arthur, exhausted him and left him sleeping in their new bed in their new home. So he wouldn't worry when he woke up alone, she left a note that said that she was shopping for curtains.

It was rather unnerving arriving at George's Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes location in Diagon Alley. First of all, everyone seemed to be staring at her. Then the store was jam packed full of people as there seemed to be some sort of massive sale occurring.

George was busy directly his workers but he grinned when he saw her.

"Hello! I will take you to the back office so we can chat. Verity! Take over watching the ickle ones," he stated. "Angelina! Hermione is here!"

George's wife joined them as they waded through the crowds.

"What is happening?" Hermione asked when they finally made the safety of the back office.

"Sale," George unhelpfully said. He wheeled over a rather comfy chair and pointed at it. "Would the little mother-to-be like to sit?"

"It's the _Laissez les bon temps rouler!_ sale," explained Angelina. She grinned at Hermione. "So, boy or girl?"

"We're not sure yet," Hermione explained.

"Boy," George firmly declared. "Ginny was a sport."

"You're fine with this latest developed between your father and me?" she asked.

"Dad doesn't need my permission for anything he does, Hermione," was George's easy response. "You've made him happy. I'm assuming you're happy."

"Delighted," Hermione murmured. For some reason her comment made Angelina laugh. His wife's laughter caused George to flush and he shook his head.

"Stop it, Angelina. Please?"

"I pray that you have your father's stamina when you're that age," Angelina quipped. She giggled and then hugged a blushing Hermione. "You have any questions about what you're experiencing, you can ask me. I know you're worried that he'll be still interested when you're farther along."

"So not listening!" George protested.

"The Weasley men have this Mother Earth fertility goddess fixation," Angelina explained. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. George was quite affectionate during the last few weeks."

"Trade secrets!" blurted George. "You're giving away trade secrets!"

"I hope I can keep up with him," admitted Hermione with a shy grin. "He's justamazing. Now, the real reason I came here for was to find out how the family's reacting. I know he's threatened to disown the entire family if they can't accept us, but he's really quite upset. What's the vote, George?"

George settled down, and he shook his head. "Thirteen to one to one," he explained.

"Thirteen to one to one?" Hermione asked, as she didn't understand the Weasley voting system.

"You, Dad, Bill, Fleur, Percy, Audrey, Charlie, Angelina, Harry, Teddy, Ginny, Fred and me," George explained.

"Fred?" Hermione whispered.

"Traditionally, he gets a vote," Angelina explained.

"Mom's abstaining, though Percy believes she'd approve. The holdout is" George stopped, as though he was wondering how to cushion the blow.

"Ron," she whispered.

Naturally, it had to be her ex-husband. The only Weasley she wouldn't dare confront directly about this matter.

"Bugger," she whispered. "Bugger, bugger, bugger."

"Don't you fret, he'll come around," Angelina assured Hermione. "Now, why don't you go home and spend some quality time with Dad."

Hermione nodded her head and tried to hide her tears from them by leaving quickly. Damn it, Ron. It had to be Ron. Desperately, she hoped that Arthur was still sleeping when she returned home.

She struggled to be quiet. Yet, Arthur stirred slightly when she crawled back into herno their bed. He put his arms around her and held her.

"You look sad," he whispered. "Couldn't find the perfect curtains?"

She just shook her head.

"We don't need perfect curtains. Functional, plain, non-transparent curtains are good enough for me. What matters is you and me, not curtains," Arthur gently reminded her. "What's really bothering you?"

Really, IT had her hormones in serious disarray as she broke down in tears. She wept until she was hiccupping and Arthur nonverbally cast them away.

"I don't want this to split your family," she whispered.

"Shhh," Arthur whispered. "You need to rest. Let me worry about them."

* * *

"Hermione was in tears," Angelina informed her husband.

"I saw but pretended that I didn't." His compassion earned him a surprised look from his wife. "I think I need to call for a Weasley War council. It might be time for a blanket party."

"A blanket party?" Angelina asked.

"We might need to Ron-napp our problem child, and beat some sense into him. We'll need a sturdy blanket, socks and several bars of soap," George announced. "Charlie and Bill, I'll Floo them."

* * *

Ron Weasley was a tad distracted, which was very bad considering he was an Auror. Couldn't blame him as his ex-wife had hooked up with his father and they were having a baby. By Albus Dumbledore's bespangled pants, HERMIONE and his FATHER. They were flaunting their relationship as they were in the Daily Prophet and featured three days running in Rita's column.

The others might be fooled by Dad's happy glow, but Ron had lived with the bitchwitch for ten years of torture, ten years of her constant nagging, ten years of her 'let's go to marital counseling', 'let's talk' and the final straw where she wanted to see a sex counselor because he wasn't doing anything for her. Well, like her harping on him day and night was going to get him in the mood.

Didn't have that performance problem with Harry. They were two men, quite comfortable together, didn't have to worry about using good forks and clean linen for supper.

Harry didn't freak because he left his muddy boots on and walked through the house. He had done that accidentally mind you, as his body was screaming for a hot shower after a long day tracking down Dark Wizards and Hermione had bloody calved on the spot. Cared more about the damn rugs than him.

He had called Hermione, "Mum" then and she hadn't been happy. With Harry, Harry had just laughed, called him a gormless idiot and had the House elf clean up the mess.

Well, maybe with Mum ill, Dad wasn't used to being free. He had been rather pussy whipped by his mother so maybe that's why he was enjoying Hermione.

Therefore because he was quite distracted, he made sure he was quite careful when he walked home. Zigzags, looking around and then and there. Probably could have just popped on home but Harry was in strange mood. Wanted to talk about Dad and Hermione and Ron just didn't want to deal with it.

Sadly, he still managed to get jumped in the middle of London by two of his brothers and Harry. When he came around, he was at Shell cottage surrounded by his disapproving family.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Bookends 6/6 (The real chapter Six - pay no attention to that previous chapter that was impersonating chapter 6)  
**Author:**  
**Prompt Number:** 194  
**Rating:** M - cursing  
**Main Pairing:** Hermione/Arthur  
**Secondary Pairings:** BW/FW, CW/Dragons, PW/AW, GW/AW, RW/HG, GW/HP, HP/RW  
**Summary:** There's a new Weasley on the way! Arthur's the dad and Hermione's the mum! How do the Weasleys react?  
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.  
**Warnings/Kinks:** Prat!Ron  
**Word Count:** ~46,500 words. So wish I was kidding.  
**Author's Notes:** Thanks to my Betas, the letters J, K & L.  
**Synopsis: ** Ron's the lone hold out and the Weasleys children decide to knock some sense into him.

_Time it was and what a time it was it was,  
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.  
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph  
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you._

_ Bookends_ by Simon and Garfunkel

* * *

Ron Weasley was a tad distracted, which was very bad considering he was an Auror. Couldn't blame him as his ex-wife had hooked up with his father and they were having a baby. By Albus Dumbledore's bespangled pants, HERMIONE and his FATHER. They were flaunting their relationship as they were in the Daily Prophet and featured three days running in Rita's column.

The others might be fooled by Dad's happy glow, but Ron had lived with the bitchwitch for ten years of torture, ten years of her constant nagging, ten years of her 'let's go to marital counseling', 'let's talk' and the final straw where she wanted to see a sex counselor because he wasn't doing anything for her. Well, like her harping on him day and night was going to get him in the mood.

Didn't have that performance problem with Harry. They were two men, quite comfortable together, didn't have to worry about using good forks and clean linen for supper.

Harry didn't freak because he left his muddy boots on and walked through the house. He had done that accidentally mind you, as his body was screaming for a hot shower after a long day tracking down Dark Wizards and Hermione had bloody calved on the spot. Cared more about the damn rugs than him.

He had called Hermione, "Mum" then and she hadn't been happy. With Harry, Harry had just laughed, called him a gormless idiot and had the House elf clean up the mess.

Well, maybe with Mum ill, Dad wasn't used to being free. He had been rather pussy whipped by his mother so maybe that's why he was enjoying Hermione.

Therefore because he was quite distracted, he made sure he was quite careful when he walked home. Zigzags, looking around and then and there. Probably could have just popped on home but Harry was in strange mood. Wanted to talk about Dad and Hermione and Ron just didn't want to deal with it.

Sadly, he still managed to get jumped in the middle of London by two of his brothers and Harry. When he came around, he was at Shell cottage surrounded by his disapproving family.

* * *

"Very well." Bill Weasley had taken control of the meeting as he was the senior Weasley present and it was his house, after all. "Ron, we'd like to hash out the current situation and get it resolved."

"Bill, I was married to the bitch," Ron began.

"I'm not listening to this," George interrupted. "If ickle Ronnie can't be respectful about Dad's girlfriend, then I'm not staying. Angelina?"

"Agreed," said George's wife chimed in. The two Weasleys then left.

"Are you mental? I was married to her for ten plus years of hell," Ron reminded his family. "Don't you think I'd be a very good judge of her character?"

"My children will not know their grandfather because of you," Percy reminded his brother.

"Dad will come around," Ron glibly assured his brother. He wouldn't let them pressure him into changing his mind.

"No," the once prodigal son reminded his younger brother. "He won't. He'll walk right past you, as though you don't even exist. How do I tell Molly and Lucy that the reason why their grandfather won't acknowledge them is because of their dear Uncle Ronnie?"

Ron was about to open his mouth to protest, but Percy cut him off.

"Well, two can play that game, you're dead to me. I refuse to let you hurt my daughters."

Audrey grabbed her husband by his arm, and made a soothing gesture.

"Let's go" Audrey ordered.

Charlie was the next to speak.

"I really don't understand. Do you really get it? You are trying to decide that your dad can't be with who he wants to be with. Why do YOU get Harry? Just because he is who you want to be with? The man you love? Don't you think the two of you shacking up?"

"Don't say that," Ron growled.

"Don't you think that you finding your Tru Luv caused a great deal of pain to everyone in this family?" Charlie asked. "We accepted it, some of us more easily than others, but no one said, 'No, Ronnie, you can't shack up with Harry because well, Ginny used to be married to him'. I understand it's different because it's all about you."

"Doesn't it bother you? I thought of everyone here, Charlie, you'd be the one to understand why it's so wrong. You and Mum were close," Ron reminded his brother. "Doesn't it upset you that Dad's just given up on Mum and decided to start a new family with a much younger witch?"

"Ron, Mum isn't getting any better. She has no idea who Dad is," Bill inserted. "She has no concept of who any of us are. To deny Dad any chance of happiness until Mom passes? That's cruel and selfish, Ron."

"Ron's rather self-centered," Ginny inserted. "Look, I'm glad you and Harry have found each other, as you're perfect for each other. Harry, I thank you for our children, but it would have been a lot easier for me if you just admitted you were queer when I first asked you. I'm leaving."

Charlie and Ginny both left the room leaving Bill and Fleur and Harry and Ron.

"I'd like you to leave," Fleur regally requested. "You're not welcome here until you can get over yourself."

She left then and Bill shook his head.

"You're hurting Dad," was all he said.

"I don't need you lot," Ron protested. "I've got Harry and he's the most important person to me. I have Harry and I have Teddy. I don't need you."

"Ron," Harry softly inserted. "They're your family. They're our family. Mr. Weasley Arthur he's the closest I've had to having a proper Dad. Sirius? He was a big brother and Remus? Remus tried but he was too worried about his little furry condition would affect my reputation to take a ore active role in my life Arthur Molly they took me in, made me part of the family. I don't know why you dislike Hermione so much. When I realized that I was gay, she she was quite understanding about it. Ron, we nearly tore your family apart when we got together and now you're completing the division. Because of you, Arthur's not talking to any of his children or grandchildren."

Ron wasn't sure how to take Harry's comments. A betrayal? From the man he loved? Was there the painful ring of truth in Harry's comments?

He didn't get a chance to respond because Fleur returned to the room and informed them that Arthur was back at St. Mungo's.

* * *

"I could get quite comfortable with these lie ins," Hermione murmured to Arthur. She was wrapped around him and an industrious Arthur was attempting to make some sense out of the various sheets and blankets. Well, at least enough sense so he could cover them both. While they hadn't made love the previous night as Hermione's libido had gone a burton, Hermione had a tendency of hogging the covers, leaving Arthur a bit chilly.

"You owe me eggs, sausage and toast," he reminded her.

"Hush," Hermione chastised him. She was resting her head on his chest and she was listening to his heart. Hesitantly, she reached for his wrist and began to count the beats, watching the battered clock on the wall.

She counted the racing beats several times to confirm the rate. _Forty, forty-one, forty- two._

"Arthur?" Hermione hesitantly asked.

"It's racing a bit," he admitted. "Normally, I can break it."

"Normally? Break?" Hermione repeated. Awkwardly, she sat up and looked at him. He did look a pale and sweaty, and not in the good 'I've been busy shagging all night long' way but 'Is there a Healer in the house?' way. "You've been having attacks and you haven't told me?"

"I took my medication half past the hour," he informed her, deliberately not answering her questions. "I'm fine, Hermione. Sometimes, I get a little stressed and my heart bounces about. Should be fine."

"You took your medication twenty minutes ago and your heart is still racing along? We're going to St. Mungo's," commanded Hermione. She grabbed her wand, got them both properly dressed and at St. Mungo's before he could cease his futile protesting.

The triaging Healer took one look at the diaphoretic Arthur and forced him into the Cardiac Casualty Ward, leaving a terrified Hermione alone in the waiting room.

"Dearie," an ancient witch interrupted her dark thoughts. "If you're going to call his family in, I'm supposed to get the Security Brigade here first so we can securely separate them. Will you be advising them of the situation?"

Hermione nodded her head once. Yes, she needed to contact Percy. Yes, Arthur was currently estranged from his family, but this this could be very serious.

"I'll be contacting Percy," Hermione announced. "How much warning time do you need?"

"Ten minutes," the crone cackled. "I think they're being rather silly. I think they're just worried as your husband's family is just so numerous and so ginger. Plus, the whole lot of them are the Heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts and they weren't tossing flowers during that donnybrook."

* * *

Percy literally jumped through the Floo when she Called him about Arthur's admittance to St. Mungo's. Audrey agreed to inform the rest of the extended family so Percy could sit with her. Poor Percy, as she broke down in tears when she saw his familiar face. Being used to highly emotional, pregnant females, he just hugged her and urged her to cry.

"If anything happens to him" she wept. "I won't be able to do this by myself."

"You're family, Hermione," Percy reminded her. "Always have been, always will be. We'll be here for you and the baby."

"He's been having episodes of the fast heart rate, and he didn't tell me. Arthur didn't want me to worry. Arthur's been so stressed with this damn situation with his familyI'm sure it hasn't helped his condition."

Percy just continued to hold her as the various Weasleys began arriving. Meanwhile, the Security team had been dispatched and was carefully watching the situation but the Weasleys were being remarkably subdued and behaved.

* * *

"I'm going to St. Mungo's," Ron tersely informed Harry.

"Do you think you're wanted there?" Harry asked the Weasley Non Grata.

"Bugger them if they don't want me there. He's my father also, Harry. And as you just reminded me, you consider him your father also. Now will you be coming with me? We should probably tell Teddy," suggested Ron.

"Yes, we need to inform Teddy," agreed Harry.

Teddy was quite upset when he heard about his grandfather and insisted on going to St. Mungo's with them. The three of them were greeted at the door by Bill, who tersely informed Ron that he better behave or Bill would ensure that he did.

"What's that about?" Teddy asked Harry.

"Nothing," Harry lied. "From what I understand, sometimes brothers act like that."

"Oh, ok," Teddy murmured his understanding.

Ron just ignored Harry and Teddy as he was watching a tearful Hermione. She was sitting next to Percy and George, and both of his brothers were talking to her. His ex-wife was noticeably upset and both her hands were resting on her belly. Oh bloody hell; Ron was a trained Auror. He could see that Hermione _**did**_ care for his father. In **_that_** way, the _**proper**_ way.

Their eyes met, and Hermione flinched.

Bloody hell, he had cared for her, once, a life time ago, when he didn't realize who and what his true inclination was. Ron remembered how Hermione had made his Mum happy as a potential daughter-in-law, and how he believed that would be enough to silence his doubts.

Time to let go. Time to move on. He had only the one parent left after all. Hadn't his indecisiveness and his uncertainty hurt Hermione enough?

"'Moine, I understand that I need to offer my congratulations," Ron carefully offered. "You and dad must be delighted."

A slight hesitant smile as though Hermione feared that she was dreaming their encounter and feared to wake.

"Yes, we both are," she admitted.

"Good," Ron said. "You and Dad deserve to be happy."

And for the record, Ron was giving his blessings because he wanted to do so, not because his cack-handed, overbearing family had guilted him into it.

Thank you very, very much.

* * *

Epilogue.

Hermione was dreaming. She was standing at the old Burrow, and her belly was quite heavy with Annie Rose. Michael and Keegan were running toward the door and an exhausted Hermione waddled after them. She warned them to behave and wait for her, but naturally they didn't listen.

_I'm dreaming! Wouldn't it be nice not to be thirty nine weeks gone? _

The boys ran into the open door and Hermione huffed and puffed until she entered the kitchen.

She saw a young teenage boy Fredwith two proper ears and he was hugging both boys and Molly Molly was busy kissing a squirming Michael.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she saw Molly.

_I'm dreaming of Molly and Fred? _

A young, radiant Molly turned to face her and an alarmed Hermione stepped back.

_I'm dreaming of Arthur's wife? She looks barely twenty years old, like the wedding picture of her and Arthur on our mantel. _

Molly shook her head in disapproval at Hermione's apprehension and she widely opened her arms. Hesitantly, Hermione stumbled towards Molly and she was quickly engulfed in Molly's arms. Before long, Molly was embracing her tightly and soon Fred was hugging her also. They kissed and hung on to each other, and Molly put her hand on Hermione's belly.

Annie Rose kicked her hard and Hermione woke.

Eight minutes before two, she noticed. The other side of the bed was still empty which meant that Arthur still wasn't home from the hospice. Michael and Keegan were deeply asleep next to her, and she tried to make herself comfortable. Well, as comfy as she could, considering Annie Rose was due in three days.

Exhausted, she drifted back into a dreamless sleep.

When Arthur came back to their bed, she woke. It was half past four in the morning.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he whispered. "What are the boys doing in our bed? You know I don't like our bed being communal. It's supposed to be our little fun spot."

"Just wanted them near," she explained. "Did Molly?"

"Yes, she passed on a little bit before two," Arthur shakily informed her. "She was sleeping and she just stopped breathing. Very peaceful."

She had dreamed of Molly and Fred around that time had Molly been giving them her blessing?

To her surprise, Arthur kissed her on her cheek and tenderly whispered in her ear, "I love you."

Hermione blinked back her tears. It was the first time Arthur had ever said that to her. How bittersweet it was that he could only tell her now, after Molly had passed on.

"I have for the longest time," he assured her. "It didn't feel very proper telling you that while I was still married to Molly."

"I love you too, Arthur," Hermione confessed.

"Do you think we could get married before Annie arrives?" Arthur asked. "The funeral will be two days from now, so maybe we could get married on her due date? Think she'll agree to cooperate and delay her arrival? I want us proper and legal before she's born."

"Is that a proposal?" Hermione asked. "If it is, it is the worst proposal I've ever heard."

"I'm seventy years old, Hermione. If I get down on bended knee, there's a strong possibility that I might not get back onto my feet." Arthur tartly reminded her. "But very well."

He knelt before their bed, and he put his hand on hers.

"Will you do me the honor of being my wife, Hermione?" He asked.

"Better," she teased. "But not very romantic."

"It's four in the morning, love. You want romantic, I'll do my best to give you **_romantic_**. I love you and cherish you. I adore how you talk about things I can't even begin to understand. I wish you to be my wife, and I vow that I will treat you with respect and caring. I will be understanding of your wishes and desires, and respect your integrity, your intelligence and intentions. I shall support your dreams and goals. Where there are troubles, I will stand with you. I bring to you a deeply flawed man, who struggles to be the best man he can be, to honor all my commitments. I will do my best by you, Hermione. I swear this is so by my name and my soul"

"That's your commitment vow to me," Hermione reminded him.

"Yes, I was there for it," Arthur teasingly retorted. "I thought I've improved on it."

"But this time it's **_much_** nicer," Hermione purred. "Yes, let's get married. We can do it tomorrow, as Kingsley reminded me at our last dinner at Minerva's, that as a former Minister of Magic, he can officiate at weddings. Now get into bed, as I'm tired. I can't sleep when you're not nearby."


End file.
